Survival of the Fittest
by 90TheGeneral09
Summary: A small airliner carrying over a dozen boys from the Bunker Hill Military Academy goes down in the Pacific Ocean, leaving the cadets and a wounded adult to wash up on the shores of a nearby island. New discoveries soon see the boys who call themselves the Hunters becoming swifter and stronger by the day- and more willing to impose their will on the others. A battle is coming.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

 **A/N: This story is being written at the request of AM83220, one of the best writers on this site, one I have had the good fortune of working and interacting with here since 2013. Some of my earliest stories of fanfiction were quickly-written tales of Lord of the Flies as it was depicted in the 1990 film adaptation, and I focused my fanfiction around exploring the magnificently-portrayed 1990 Jack Merridew, played by Chris Furrh.**

 **So when AM83220 got an idea for a Lord of the Flies story, he approached me and asked me to write it instead. He insisted that he could not depict the story and characters so well as I already have, and gradually convinced me I would be better suited to write the story. After all the assistance and support AM83220 has given me, reviewing so many of my stories and chapters and exchanging countless pieces of correspondence, writing a story on request is certainly an appropriate thing to do in return. Numerous plot details and events have and no doubt will be supplied by AM83220. Even if I am the writer of this story, it was his idea- he came up with it. So credit must be given to him where it is due. And as a matter of fact, looking through some old PMs, I found that this story's story first begins when I sent a message to AM83220 asking him to elaborate on his idea about a LOTF fanfic, and he responded with a bunch of details for a particular story idea and explained the idea itself. That was May 2013.**

 **I never actually said I would not write it, but I was hesitant for a while, and more than that I was busy writing The Good Sons, my third story based on the 1993 movie The Good Son. So it took 4 years for this story to even get far enough to have an actual Word document in my files for it. But now that I've gotten it that far I have every intention of writing it to completion.**

 **This story is set, as I said in the description, in the 1990 Lord of the Flies movie adaptation. Jack Merridew in that version is a tall, lanky, foul-mouthed jerk who bears some resemblance to Draco Malfoy in looks as well as personality. He is a spoiled, arrogant bully, and one of my favorite movie antagonists. Since this story is set in the 1990 version, all descriptions and details of characters and the island will be based off of it. Jack in the 1990 movie is blond, rather than red-haired, and there is no Pablo or Rapper in the 1963 film or the book.**

 **If you know your American military schools, you will notice that the uniforms the boys are wearing when the movie starts are the red-trimmed grays of the high school cadets at the Valley Forge Military Academy & College in Wayne, Pennsylvania. They're an exact match apart from the generic, apparently made-up patch on the jacket's right shoulder. They use U.S. Army ROTC/JROTC rank insignia rather than the British rank insignia that VFMAC uses, but other than that, those are their uniforms. Since Valley Forge was depicted as Bunker Hill Military Academy in the 1981 movie **_**Taps**_ **, a movie I'm a big fan of, I noticed the cadet grays shared by both movies immediately.**

 **Since the boys in the 1990 movie attend a military academy, it makes plenty of sense that they swear a lot more than the British choir boys did in the 1963 film or the book. If you've ever attended a military school in the United States, you've heard some of the language used in the barracks, by cadets of any age. It's part of military culture, even if it's against regulations. I was reading about the making of the 1990 film, and the original script called for WAY more profanity than the final one used in filming did.**

 **Lastly, since this is an adaptation of the book that includes many original characters who have little to no resemblance to those in the book, I will identify the list here and note rank where applicable. Interestingly, Roger actually outranks Jack here, but never even tries to tell Jack what to do, and in fact is his right hand man from the beginning. The rank of most of those few that even have rank beyond private is not seen much. Most of the boys ditch their jackets fairly quickly- logical given the conditions and how uncomfortable military dress uniforms are at any time- and a lot of the boys don't appear very prominently in scenes anyway, meaning that you will not get many chances to see their rank even while they're still wearing it. The standard cadet rank insignia in the U.S. is that of Army ROTC/JROTC, and that's what's used here.**

 **Most of these boys are never identified by name in the movie, and have few if any lines. I had to find a web page that lists name, actor, and a picture of the character to figure out who half of them were for the purposes of writing the story. That is something the 1963 film does much better than this one.**

 **Cadet Lieutenant Colonel Ralph**

 **Cadet Captain Roger**

 **Cadet First Lieutenant Jack Merridew**

 **Cadet Sergeant Pablo**

 **Cadet Corporal Steve**

 **Andy**

 **Billy**

 **Eric, Twin #2**

 **Greg**

 **John**

 **Larry**

 **Luke**

 **Mikey**

 **Patterson**

 **Peter**

 **Piggy**

 **Rapper**

 **Rusty**

 **Sam, Twin #1**

 **Sheraton**

 **Simon**

 **Tony**

 **Tex**

 **Will**

* * *

The airliner was small, a Bombardier designed for private flights and the shorter runs that were hardly economical for one of the giant airliners to do. The twenty-four boys from Bunker Hill Military Academy took care of all but one of the Bombardier 210's open seats. The Academy band instructor who'd gone along on the trip, Captain Benson, was up front near the pilots along with Ralph and an overweight boy with glasses, both of the sitting across the aisle from him. Altogether, twenty-four cadets plus a teacher filled up the plane and then some.

It was late in the day; the sun would be setting soon. Most of the boys behaved well enough, which was good, since the pilots weren't that interested in playing babysitter.

The turboprop engines, one on each wing, droned endlessly, and some of the younger boys were complaining about it. A handsome blond kid told them to stop whining. That was Jack Merridew, ranked number three after Ralph. The pilots didn't really keep track of cadet chain of command, but it interested even them that the boy commanding Band Company, Roger, seemed to say next to nothing. He talked to Jack; the two were thick as thieves. But in most situations, Jack talked and Roger seemed to just back his authority. It was interesting how one boy had higher rank, but the other appeared to be in charge.

 **XX**

Jack Merridew, just turned sixteen, was tall and lean, blond and handsome. He wore his red-trimmed gray uniform well and had the perfect looks of a cadet officer, even if he had been sent to military school for the stereotypical "troublemaker" reasons. Jacks preferred to call it having fun, being adventurous. You'd never have much fun if you didn't break the rules sometimes.

Slouched in his seat, Jack glanced at the Pacific Ocean outside. The sun reflected nicely off the water, which stretched off into fucking eternity. Some islands here and there, but that was it. The sun also made the twin silver discs on his shoulder gleam. Jack might have been an unbreakable stallion at heart- and he liked to brag that he fucked like one, too, even though he'd had sex once so far and had lasted all of thirty-four seconds then- but he had worked his way up to officer rank fairly quickly. He was smart and wanted to be in charge, and Jack had really taken off as a cadet when he'd figured out he had more to gain by playing this dumb school's game. Guidon corporal, platoon sergeant, now executive officer of Band Company. He'd done all right for himself in the past months.

But the boy to his left, his best friend, had done better still. After the original company commander of Band had been kicked out for hiding weed in his room, Roger had taken charge as captain, and Jack had moved in to occupy the vacated XO slot. After chapel the following Sunday, Jack had asked Roger if the previous captain really had been into weed- he hadn't been known for it, and Jack knew all those guys.

Roger just said, "No. I planted it in his room and tipped off the TAC officers."

He had said it so calmly, so simply. Without even a hint of remorse for making another boy take the fall. He'd gotten the other boy kicked out and taken his rank. Jack had admired Roger's relentless way of going after something he wanted. He liked Roger's dedication to the manly arts, most of all physical strength. And most of all, he appreciated how Roger had backed up Jack from the day he'd arrived at Bunker Hill. Despite outranking him this whole time, Roger treated Jack with respect from day one and had always allowed the much more talkative Jack act as if he was in charge of the Band Company floor in the barracks. Roger backed Jack's hand and Jack backed Roger's. Together they were a force nobody messed with.

Part of the reason Roger let Jack do the talking was that Roger couldn't talk all that well. He was tall and handsome- another boy who looked like a natural cadet officer- and was probably the strongest cadet on the plane. Yet Roger was also stiff and awkward. His speeches to the company were about as interesting as a plank of wood. Up close, one-on-one, Roger was different. He could intimidate and frighten other boys years older than himself. He had beaten up a couple of boys and routinely harassed and extorted the little ones, yet nobody had ever turned him in. Not once had someone ratted on Roger. That was because Roger had the look of a boy who'd kill you the second he discovered you'd sold him out. Jack had seen it himself. Roger had the stare of a killer. Jack tended not to look directly into Roger's brown eyes when he talked, because the generally cold look there made him uncomfortable.

But hey, nobody was perfect. Jack had decided to make Roger his best friend and most trusted ally a while ago. He could put up with his friend's faults.

For one thing, the good things about him made it easy to have fun, like right now. Bored out of his mind, Jack tapped Roger on the three silver discs that represented a cadet captain, pinned to his right shoulder.

"What?" Roger asked.

"Let's have some fun," Jack said eagerly.

"Okay."

"I'm gonna sing some dirty cadences," Jack told him.

"Okay."

Wow. Roger sure made for an interesting conversationalist sometimes. He could be eloquent sometimes- he'd recited the entire fucking monologue from "Hamlet", the "To be or not to be" crap without a single glance at the book in English class once- but frequently spoke in short sentences. He would often talk like he was paying good money for each word he spoke. But Roger was a hell of a fun guy, and Jack knew that well. He raised his voice so it would carry easily throughout the plane.

"Throw some candy to the children," Jack sang out. He had a gift for singing, able to call cadence skillfully with little effort. The other cadets followed his lead right away.

"Throw some candy to the children!"

Beside him, Roger grinned like a wolf. He knew this cadence and loved it from the moment Jack had made it up.

"Watch 'em all gather 'round!"

"Watch 'em all gather 'round!"

"Lock and load your M16 now!"

"Lock and load your M16 now!"

"Mow those little fuckers down!"

"Mow those little fuckers down!"

"Sound off!"

"Sound off!"

"One, two!"

"One, two!"

"Three, four!"

"Three, four!"

"One, two, three, four- one, two, three, four!"

Jack launched into another cadence, another dirty chant. He'd gotten in a lot of trouble for yelling this as he led Band Company on a PT run past a group of prospective parents one afternoon, but like the previous one, it was an instant favorite with every dirty-minded cadet in barracks.

"Napalm, napalm, sticks like glue!"

"Napalm, napalm, sticks like glue!"

"Sticks to the women and the children, too!"

"Sticks to the women and the children, too!"

"Okay, Jack, I think that's enough," Ralph called from up front.

"Come on, one more, sir," Jack said, seemingly sincere and pleading. He held up two middle fingers where Roger could see, and mouthed "FUCK YOU", and Roger grunted laughter.

"Fine," Ralph said, even though he didn't sound like he was very happy about it.

"I don't wanna go to war!"

"I don't wanna go to war!"

"I'd rather get laid in Singapore!"

The little ones were just squealing with delight now, and Sam and Eric, the twins, were cracking up. The boys were all awake now and most called out the cadence with glee, even though some were too young to do any such thing as the cadence talked about.

"Jack," Ralph said in a warning tone.

"And if I die on the Russian front!"

"And if I die on the Russian front!"

"Box me up with a Russian cu-"

"That's enough, Jack!"

Ralph had turned around and stood up on his seat with one knee, letting the other cadets, including Jack, see his revulsion. The boys didn't echo the latest chant since Jack didn't complete it, but some of them looked disappointed about it. Others were struggling to contain silent laughter, and still more avoided Ralph's glare, suppressing guilty smiles.

"Come on, Colonel, it's just a song," Jack said.

"We're representing Bunker Hill. You, me and Roger are cadet officers. Pablo's a cadet sergeant, and Steve's a corporal. We have a responsibility to do things the right way."

"Wasn't I calling cadence the right way? I got volume, pitch, everything!"

Ralph looked really annoyed now, and Jack was unable to keep a shit-eating grin off his face. "Jack, that's not the point!"

"What _is_ the point, Colonel, sir?"

"You shouldn't be calling dirty cadences, Jack! _That's the point_! Now give it a rest, we've got a long flight ahead of us still."

"As my Colonel commands, yes, sir," Jack said, saluting while still slouched in the seat.

Ralph looked irritated at that, but he probably knew he wasn't going to get much better. He sighed and sat back down. "Sorry, Captain Benson," he said, looking across the aisle.

"Boys will be boys. You guys are fine."

The ranking cadet just sulked where he was, having gotten no support- even passively- from the sole member of school faculty on the plane. The pilots had chuckled a couple times during the calling of the dirty cadences- they had the cockpit door open- so there was no chance of them helping out. But after a minute, Ralph decided he wasn't giving up just yet.

"No more dirty cadences, Jack," Ralph called out. "We have little boys on this plane. I'm not gonna have us go home and have their parents say you corrupted them."

"Hey, we ain't little babies!"

"Yeah!" a bunch of other small boys agreed.

"I like Jack's cadences," Tony said from the row behind. "They're awesome."

"Yeah!" the little ones chorused again.

Ralph just sighed again and gave up.

Jack grinned and high-fived Roger. At the exact moment their hands smacked together, the plane gave a sudden, violent lurch.

Most of the boys weren't wearing their seatbelts and were jostled or outright thrown from their seats. A few guys screamed.

"What the hell was that?" Jack yelled.

"Stay in your seats, I'm gonna have a word with the pilots," Captain Benson announced as he stood up. He looked nervous, which only worried Jack more.

Then there was a tremendous bang, and Jack was hurled into the seat in front of him. It was like God had drop-kicked their tail. The overhead lights went off. Jack shouted as the plane went nose-down, but he couldn't hear himself over the commotion. Half the boys on the plane were shouting or screaming or doing some combination of both.

"Brace yourself, boss," Roger barked, and Jack marveled at how calm his friend sounded as they hurtled toward oblivion.

 **XX**

Jack was knocked senseless by the impact, but Roger hauled him bodily to his feet. "We gotta go, Jack," the taller boy said. He was remarkably calm; the water was already up to their necks.

The boys were panicking, but they had enough sense to go for the exit doors and force them open. Even with one arm, Ralph got one open by himself, and he hollered for everyone to get out of the plane now.

Jack thought that was a fine idea.

It was pandemonium outside. The aircraft's fuselage went under in less than a minute, but so far as Jack could tell, everyone got out. All the cadets, anyway. Sure seemed like it because everywhere Jack looked there were panicking cadets. Around twenty boys, all of them shouting and yelling. Jack looked around and spotted Roger, calmly treading water, not making a sound. His expression was blank, like he wasn't worried at all. Roger noticed Jack looking at him and nodded.

Where the hell were they? What had happened to the plane? Jack didn't have any idea. He thought about shouting along with the others, but didn't want to look like a fool in front of Roger. He forced himself to stay calm.

Something broke the surface off to his left, in the middle of the floating boys and aircraft debris. The loud hissing noise it made as it inflated drew everyone's attention- and shut all the scared little kids up.

There was no need to give instructions. Everyone immediately went for the octagon-shaped black rubber raft. Roger, being one of the strongest boys here, had no problem hauling himself up over its steep side. He reached over and helped Jack up, and the two of them started pulling the other cadets in. Ralph they had to be especially careful with; he'd hurt his arm in the crash and was using his white uniform shirt to make a sling.

Captain Benson even made it, pulled to the surface by Ralph and brought aboard the raft by a couple of the boys. He was unconscious and looked to have hit his head pretty good.

Ralph did a quick head count, looking around at the soaking wet, frightened cadets. "Who are we missing?" he asked. "We're two off."

"It's the pilots," Roger said tonelessly. "They're dead."

"How do you know that, sir?" one of the smaller boys asked.

"The plane sank almost immediately," Jack said. "Captain Benson barely got out. If the two pilots aren't here by now, they're not coming."

"I wanna go home," a boy complained, starting to cry. "I don't wanna die."

"Nobody's gonna die," Ralph assured him.

"Hey, look. There's some oars here," Tony said from behind Ralph. He produced three good-sized plastic oars. Jack took one, Roger took one, and Ralph, insistent despite his injured right arm, also took one.

"There's land over that way," Ralph said, pointing at an island in the distance. "We should head over there." Even at a glance, Jack could see it was a pretty big one. It wasn't anything like the little sandy island with a single palm tree like you'd expect. There was a lot of green, tons of trees it looked like- and more than just palms. In the distance, reaching up toward some low-lying clouds, there were what looked like freaking mountains. What Jack couldn't see were signs of civilization. Not on the island, not anywhere. This raft and those in it were the only proof before Jack's eyes that mankind even existed.

Jack wasn't looking to spend the rest of his life in this raft, which was pretty crowded with twenty-four boys and one unconscious adult in it. He would have preferred the island filled with hot girls, but since this deserted-looking one was the only option available, Jack was up for it. He rowed steadily, privately glad that he was alive to row at all.

Nobody talked much as everyone's breathing slowed, and the fear-induced adrenaline rush wore off. As the island slowly got closer, Jack was amazed at just how big it was. Holy fuck. This was nothing like the tiny little island he'd always figured he'd wind up on, if something like this ever happened to him. Of course, he'd also figured something like this would never happen to him, so the deserted island not matching his imagination kind of made sense.

A glance back showed the ocean already reclaiming what little was left of the plane. Inside of a few hours, all the debris would be carried away or sink or both. All the big wreckage was way down in the Pacific somewhere, and Jack had heard this was one deep fucking ocean. No way was anyone gonna find that thing anytime soon. Jack realized they might be here for a while.

They steered in for a sheltered cove, guarded on either side by tall, black boulders with rich green vegetation growing on top of them. Whole trees, actually. Jack had never seen anything like this; it would have been invaded and turned into a resort a long time ago if it had been anywhere near civilization. All the same, Jack was amazed no one seemed to have ever come here.

As the raft neared the shore, Jack climbed over the side, both feet making a dramatic splash as he landed in the shallow water. Roger jumped over the other side, and together they hauled the raft forward until it ran around on the sand. More and more of the boys started climbing out, and they pulled the raft the rest of the way up onto the beach.

The boys all stayed clustered together, not seeming to want to stray very far. Ralph, the highest-ranking cadet, strode forward and came to a halt, surveying the beach and the tree-line, the mountain peaks covered in green. There were a lot of trees; vegetation thrived on this island. It probably rained all the fucking time. Jack unbuttoned his dress jacket, opening his bare chest up to the air some. In this warm part of the year, he was always going without his white uniform shirt, getting in trouble for it when somebody checked up close.

Academy regulations were not going to hold up very long around here.

Jack came up and stood on Ralph's right, and Roger stood on his left. The three oldest boys present were also the three cadet officers, so all the younger boys had two reasons for kind of just standing around, waiting to be told what to do. They probably assumed the three had some kind of plan, or they'd come up with one.

"Fuck," Tony said from behind them.

"Bend over," Roger replied.

A few boys sniggered.

"All right," Ralph said. "We don't know anything about this place, but I think this cove looks okay. It'll help cover us if a storm blows in, so it's better than an open stretch of beach."

"Maybe there's a cave or somethin' farther in there," Pablo, cadet sergeant and the only Hispanic cadet present, said, looking further inland.

"Maybe there is," Ralph said. "But if we go heading right in looking for it, we might not find it or be able to get back here before dark."

Just then Captain Benson was carried past the group; Simon and a few boys had lifted him out of the raft. They set him down under one of the palm trees.

"I'm not leaving him here," Simon said. He spoke quietly as he looked at everyone, but it was clear he was serious.

"Okay," Ralph said, nodding. He took a head count to make sure everyone was present, then announced, "It looks like everyone made it except the pilots, like we figured. Right now, everybody just take a break. We just survived a plane crash. That's no joke. We'll stay put for now and figure out if we're gonna move tomorrow."

They did some scouting around the area of the cove, but found nothing to eat. Just a lot of tropical plants. Most of the boys were pretty wiped out by the terror of the plane crash, and didn't want to go very far. They stayed on the beach in little groups, talking and reliving details of the crash, trying to figure out how it happened. Nobody had any real idea.

Neither Jack nor Roger could figure anything out. Even they couldn't determine what had gone wrong. Whatever it was, the plane had gone down fast as hell. Since the pilots were dead and the plane at the bottom of the ocean, chances were no one would ever find out what caused the crash. It was a mystery and that was that.

As it got dark, Ralph took a glowstick out of the pack they found in the raft. He bent it until it made a slight snapping sound, and shook it a bunch of times. It lit up after a moment, casting a lime-green glow over everything.

"What is that?" Greg, one of the smaller boys, asked as he looked at Ralph.

"It's a glow stick."

"How does it work?"

"Some kinda chemical."

"Do you think anyone else is here, sir?"

That question came from Larry, a short blond boy standing to Jack's right. Irritated by such a dumb question, Jack couldn't quite keep a sneer off his face as he said, "It's just an island. There's nothing here."

"What if there's no water?" Peter piped up. Another little one, with dark brown or black hair.

"Why isn't there any food?"

Ralph raised his hands as the little ones- and some of the older boys, to be fair- started complaining or asking questions.

"We're all tired and we're all hungry. We should just try to get some sleep. Everyone find a spot right here on the beach, and stay close by. Tomorrow we'll figure out what we're gonna do."

Nobody else had anything to add. It had been a long and terrifying day. They were tired, and largely just glad to be alive. Jack didn't see why they shouldn't go with Ralph's idea, and it would quiet the little ones down for now. He wasn't here to be anyone's babysitter, so if Ralph had a plan that shut the kids up, that was good with him.

Jack picked out a spot on the sand to lie down. Roger took a place nearby, the loyal right hand man, looking out for his boss. Jack liked that. He was number three out of the top cadets, but with Roger backing his play, he was basically number two. That was good enough for now. Ralph might have been a cadet lieutenant colonel, but Jack was the oldest. Pretty soon the guys would all realize that, and he'd be in charge for as long as they were on this island after that. Jack closed his eyes and slept. As tired as he was, he had no trouble falling asleep.

 **XX**

Simon stayed up long after the other boys went to sleep, even the officers. He wasn't sure why he decided to stay up. He didn't ever seem to do anything quite the way the rest of the boys did. Simon was an anomaly, an oddity. Nobody had ever known quite what to do with him. Not his parents, who sent him off to Bunker Hill so he'd have some stability in his life as they divorced- and so he'd miss the ugly fights they'd been having beforehand. But Simon had heard them. He'd heard them all through the central air vent in his room, which was connected to the same duct as the one in the kitchen.

Quiet, thoughtful, and modest, Simon was not well-suited to the special brand of macho attitude so prevalent at a prestigious military prep school like Bunker Hill. He could wear a uniform and march and follow orders and clean the barracks, but other than that, he was useless. Simon had no interest in athletics, because he didn't really care about competing with the other boys. He was always wandering off, and had gotten in trouble more than once for being found going to or coming from the woods behind the school, which was off-limits most of the time. Simon knew it was against regulations, and told the school authorities that if they demanded if he knew them or not. He knew the regulations said no. He just didn't see why he couldn't go in the woods once in a while.

Simon loved being alone in nature. Really, he loved being alone. He didn't mind people, he just didn't have anything to say to them most of the time. The other guys always had something to talk about, were always competing and playing games. Simon wasn't into any of that. But now, in this rugged and unknown place, he wondered if all of them going to bed at once was such a good idea. They were always talking about military this and military that at Bunker Hill. Some of these cadets thought they were as tough as soldiers. Didn't soldiers post sentries, especially in unknown territory?

Oh, well. The fact was that these boys were not soldiers, and Simon knew that. He was probably worrying more than he needed to anyway.

He'd heard some birds, but that was it. It seemed like they were safe enough here. But they were going to need to find food and water soon; if they didn't, it wouldn't matter where they set up a camp. They'd be in trouble.

Simon resolved to get going first thing in the morning. He tended to wake up before reveille sounded at school, so that would serve him well here. And if he could get out there and find everybody some fresh water, it'd go a long way to helping everybody.

Beside him, Captain Benson slept fitfully. He would mutter and groan every so often, and it worried Simon that his condition seemed to have gotten worse since the crash, not better like it had for everyone else. Of course, no one else had been knocked out like Captain Benson had been, and in his weakened state, he may have gotten sick. Simon heard him muttering about water a couple times. Maybe if they found him some, he'd get better.

It was amazing that all twenty-four of them had made it. Had the plane sunk even a little faster, they might not have been so lucky.

Ralph, the cadet lieutenant colonel, had a lean but sturdy frame and was well-respected by cadets and Academy staff alike. He wasn't much of a womanizer, but girls' heads turned when he walked by, more than Ralph probably noticed. He had curly brown hair, cut short as per school regulations. Simon liked and respected Ralph, and appreciated him for being one of the few who seemed to understand Simon was just a loner and a thinker. Unlike most of the boys at Bunker Hill, Ralph was neither macho and aggressive nor militaristic or pushy. He was never needlessly harsh nor pointlessly cruel, and made decisions as fairly as he could.

The same wasn't true of Jack Merridew, cadet first lieutenant and Band Company's second in command. Jack was smart, thought, moved, and acted fast, and could be as smooth and charming as anyone Simon had ever met. He was tall, lean, pale and handsome, with golden blond hair that he was always carefully conditioning and parting to one side. Jack was good-looking, and he was very, very aware of it. His vanity made him extremely sensitive to slights, and if you got Jack mad, he never forgot it. He took an authoritarian approach to leadership, wherein the dictator knows best and everyone else should just do what he says.

Roger was the same way. He was sleeping not far from Jack, close at hand in case the "boss" needed him. He was one rank higher than Jack, but didn't seem to mind Jack's strutting and swaggering and generally acting like he was in charge all the time. Roger wasn't much of a talker, whereas Jack almost never stopped talking. The two complemented each other well. Jack talked and Roger made sure everyone listened, and together they owned Band Company. No one crossed Roger, because he was tall, strong, and mean. He didn't have the lively, energetic look in his eyes that Jack always did. Roger's blue eyes, staring out at the world from under his neatly-combed brown hair, were cold. He bullied other cadets endlessly, yet got away with it because no one dared to report him, and he always knew when and how to avoid the teachers. Roger also could go from calm to furious in a second, and he always got you back if you crossed him. Simon liked to look on the bright side, and believed everyone had something genuinely good about them. He found it very unsettling that there was nothing good he could think of about Roger.

Pablo was the senior cadet non-commissioned officer in the group. He was okay. Tan skin, black hair, and a solid if unremarkable build to him. He'd survived as cadet sergeant because he never bucked the system in Band Company. Pablo wasn't cruel like Roger or vain and hot-tempered and vain like Jack, but he didn't go against them. Simon didn't really blame him. You asked for a lot of trouble if you crossed Roger and Jack, and Pablo, like a lot of guys, didn't want any part of it.

Blond, lean Steve was cadet corporal and the lowest-ranking cadet with any official authority. Some days he strutted around and acted like an Army sergeant, but most of the time he'd lie around and complain about how he always had to do all the work while ordering the cadet privates under him to do it. Steve, like more than one cadet at Bunker Hill, admired Jack

Rapper, like a good number of the boys, was twelve. Unlike anyone else here, he was black, which made him stand out instantly in the group. He wore his jet-black hair in a "high-and-tight", very short on the sides and a little longer on the top. The boys had given him the nickname of "Rapper" immediately; he was one of only a small number of black cadets at Bunker Hill, and the pervading stereotype was that all blacks liked rap music. Rapper actually did, though, and in fact was always smuggling in cassette tapes of rap music and selling them to other cadets.

The twins, Sam and Eric, were twelve and identical in behavior and looks. They bickered all the time, but they would drop it the second someone else bothered one of them. Simon had observed them enough that he knew the lanky, brown-haired twins were good friends. They were so hard to tell apart that most people just called them "Samneric," short for "Sam and Eric". You called them that because not only did you see them separated about as often as you saw a unicorn, but they talked and acted alike and had so close a bond, they were almost a pair that made up one person. Shut one of them up and the other started chattering like a sarcastic rodent. Get one of them mad and you'd have them both angry inside of a minute. Whatever one thought of you was what the other thought. The twins were sleeping side-by-side. Sam briefly stirred while Simon was watching him, and Eric briefly woke up too. They looked at each other, mumbled a few things, then nodded and went back to sleep.

Patterson, yet another brown-haired member of the group of cadets, was athletic-looking but generally kept to himself. He and Luke, the one who wore his hair just like a lot of Marines did- an even shorter and sharper-looking high-and-tight than Rapper wore- got along okay. Will, blond and lean, generally followed Jack's lead. John, another of the thirteen-year-olds, didn't get involved in leadership disputes or ego contests in the barracks; like Luke, he just did what the loudest and highest-ranking cadet said.

Andy, the one and only red-haired boy present, was even-tempered and liked keeping track of current popular TV shows. His family had just gotten a color TV, so he was always talking about it. He had just turned twelve a week ago.

Tex, Larry, Billy, Rusty, Greg, Peter, Sheraton and Mikey were the little ones. They were ten or eleven, but Mikey and Tex were nine. Mikey had the distinction of being the only Jew in this group of twenty-four; Roger had a way of singling out Mikey and making fun of his religion that Simon did not like. Whether Roger was actually a Nazi, Simon had no idea. There was a good chance Roger picked on Mikey simply because he was small, which made him an easy target to begin with, and his religion made it easy for Roger to find a way to get to him. The little ones had it the worst at Bunker Hill, their small size and low physical strength putting them solidly at the bottom of the pecking order. They tended to travel in packs and were all assigned to I Company, where all the 4th and 5th graders were.

That was everyone- except an overweight boy with a brush cut and thick glasses who'd joined them for this trip not long after coming to Bunker Hill. He ranked even lower than the little ones militarily; he was still a plebe. That was any cadet who hadn't yet survived the Crucible, the week-long series of physical and mental challenges and trials that, provided you passed, ended with a ceremony in which you and the others who'd endured the Crucible alongside you were declared full cadets and granted the right to wear your capshield, the elaborate metal badge that was fixed to the front and center of your dress cap. Nobody had a cap or capshield anymore, though. Their headgear had gone down with the plane. Simon tried to think of what the heavyset boy's name was, and was privately embarrassed when he realized he didn't know. He normally prided himself on knowing everyone's name, even if no one seemed to know his except when taking roll throughout the day.

Simon never actually decided he was going to sleep. As he sat there leaned up against the tree, his eyes drooped shut a few times. Eventually, they stayed that way.

 **XX**

The group was gone when Simon woke up. Every single one of them. Simon sat bolt upright, staring around in shock. It was still dark! Had they gotten up even before he did and just left him here, all before dawn? Was it possible they'd left him behind in the morning and Simon had proceeded to sleep through an entire day? Even Captain Benson had gone. The man was incapacitated; he hadn't woken up since the crash. Had the other boys carried him away when they left?

Simon suddenly became aware that someone was standing over him. A tall figure was casting a shadow over him, blocking the light of the moon. Looking up, he saw the nametag, the Academy teacher's uniform and rank insignia. Captain Benson! Simon's heart skipped a beat, and he sprang to his feet. "Captain Benson! Wha- where'd everyone go?"

"They're coming back, Simon," the band instructor said gently. "I need to talk to you a minute."

"What about, sir?"

"This isn't just some island. It's more than just sand and trees and mountains. There's danger here."

Simon was afraid of that. "Is it like big cats or something? Predators?"

"The time's coming when you're going to have to choose between being a hunter or one of the hunted, Simon. I know you like to try to help everybody but that won't work for very long here."

This didn't make any sense, and it was really winding Simon up. "I don't understand. Is a fight coming? What if I don't want to fight?"

"You won't have a choice."

 **XX**

Simon woke up just after that, and he looked around, staying completely still. Everyone was here. The other twenty-three cadets who'd been on the plane with Simon were all lying around in a cluster, resting after a long and difficult day. They hadn't left. Captain Benson hadn't made any sudden and miraculous recovery, either. He was still lying next to Simon, a bandage around his head.

What was that about? Had he just imagined that? Captain Benson had looked well in that dream; his uniform was even clean and neatly pressed and ironed. Simon was uneasy about what had been said. It sounded like something bad was going to happen on this island. Like they weren't going to just spend however long it took to get rescued working together and staying alive.

Hunter and hunted, having to fight- that was some pretty ominous stuff. It didn't sound like it was going to be against the elements or against animals on this island. It sounded more like the fight would be between these cadets, against each other.

Simon didn't care for that thought at all. Still, he knew he couldn't just dismiss it. Uncomfortable as it was, he resolved to keep the dream in mind. If something bad was going to happen in this island while they were here, having advance knowledge of it could only help him.

It was almost dawn. Simon felt rested enough, and he knew the others would be getting up before too long. The youth decided to head out on his own, making his way into the tropical forest as he began the search for fresh water. Simon found a stick to use for walking, and possibly as a tool if he needed it. It was bamboo, just the right length for him, good and sturdy.

As he headed further inland, surrounded on all sides by the trees and plants, listening to the birds squawk and fly overhead, Simon felt again what he so often felt when he wandered the woods behind the main grounds of Bunker Hill. Away from all the people who didn't know what to make of him, nor he of them, Simon was remarkably at ease. Set on completing the mission he'd assigned himself, he journeyed onward, finding a fresh water stream and pond not long after the sun came up.

* * *

 **A/N: 3-30-2017. So I got the first chapter posted, for the first-ever story I'm writing on request. AM83220 and I will be working together again on this story, so if you like my work, think about looking at his. I will also be making some references to CocoSushi's superb descriptions of the personalities of Jack and Roger in the 1990 movie in that user's LOTF story "Dirty Game", and maybe will make mention of that story's OC, Arianna Lovejoy. Obviously she won't appear in this story but Jack and Roger might talk about her. This is of course dependent on CocoSushi not objecting to any of it.**

 **I like to make references to things in my stories. When Tony says "Fuck" and Roger replies "Bend over," that is a reference to Stephen King's 1984 short story "Beachworld". When the narrative from Jack's POV notes that the beginning of the plane crash was "like God had drop-kicked their tail", that is a reference to the 2006 novel "World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War" by Max Brooks.**

 **The "throw some candy to the children" cadence is one that I actually heard and marched to while I was at a private military boarding school. Needless to say, that is one you didn't hear cadets calling cadence sing much when faculty and staff were close by, but a lot of cadets thought it was hilarious. The cadence about napalm is an old Army cadence I heard used to be sung back in the day. Since Jack is very much the stereotypical cocky, dirty-minded teenage male, he'd probably turn out to be a virtual catalogue of dirty and inappropriate cadences.**

 **I made an effort to get this first chapter done and get this, one of my 8 currently active stories, going. It's definitely a good thing to at least get one chapter completed and upload it to the site. I think it helps make the story a little more "real". Plus, readers can get a look at the beginning of it, gives you an opportunity to see what people think. This was mostly an introductory chapter, but things will pick up soon enough. I can't promise exactly when the next chapter will be uploaded, since my Voice of the Night fanfiction, "What You Wished For", and my offline commitments take priority. But I did want to take the time to at least get the ball rolling on this one a little bit. To any readers and/or reviewers, thank you. It is appreciated.**

 **Chapter 2**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Simon's discovery of water got the cadets up in a hurry. When Simon quietly came back to the cove, gently woke Ralph, and told him he'd found water, it was like he'd told everyone. Ralph hardly needed to do anything to get everyone moving. After a long night on this humid island without anything to drink, the boys were very thirsty, and eagerly raced into the jungle as Simon pointed the way. There was a rush to get to the banks of the pond as the boys caught sight of it, but thankfully there was room for everyone and then some. Fed by a brook running down from the towering mountain above, the pond had plenty of clean, fresh water. It was remarkably clear, and to the dehydrated cadets, it was just about the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. They clustered up by the side of the pond, cupping their hands and bringing more and more water to their parched throats. As the thirst began to fade, the boys breathed various sighs of relief.

Ralph let everyone else go first, making sure the other twenty-three cadets had been seen to before going for a drink himself. Of course, with one arm in a sling, Ralph also had good reason for not wanting to be bunched up with the other guys right at the side of the pond. It wouldn't be fun if he got bumped into, knocked over, or knocked in, one of which would surely happen by accident. Simon stood next to the other boy a few feet back from the water's edge, watching the other cadets.

"Thanks, Simon," Ralph said, keeping his voice down. "This is a big help."

"Anytime," Simon said. "I'm gonna go look around some more."

Ralph appeared to think about telling Simon to stick around, but he hesitated and thought better of it. "Be careful," he said, and Simon nodded, already heading off into the tropical forest.

 **XX**

The island was a truly stunning sight; untouched by man and miles from civilization, it was a thriving ecosystem dominated by plant life. There were so many different types of trees, plants, flowers, and no doubt there were various fruits as well. Simon hiked through the jungle, stopping now and then to look around. He made his way back to the cove, then headed away from it along the shore. One end of the cove was bordered by the steep, dark-gray and black rock that seemed to be the foundation of most of the island- probably all of it originally. The water went right up to it, with no beach at all on that stretch. But to the other direction was a beach any tourist would have loved. It headed straight for maybe half a mile as it headed away from the cove, then curved with the shape of the island, heading on.

Simon's feet were probably the first marks that humans had ever left on this beach. It was a pale tan, darkened here and there with pieces of black and gray rock that had been worn away by the ocean and then washed up on the sand. Pieces of driftwood were lying around in little groups, carried in by the last high tide. If Jack had been here, he would have said the beach was boring. Nowhere near enough naked girls. Simon liked girls, and a bunch of pretty ones, naked on this beach, would have looked nice. But he wasn't like Jack. Simon knew it was hardly the macho thing, but he would have been just fine taking a walk with some girl on this beach, talking about whatever they wanted to. That sounded like plenty of fun to him.

Privately, Simon wondered if Jack even had any sense that girls were not just objects of physical desire. All Jack ever talked about was fucking, and honestly that was probably all he wanted to do. Simon kept his opinions to himself, because he knew way more of the guys agreed with Jack's attitude. He also kept quiet because that was his way, and he knew someone as loud and arrogant as Jack wouldn't be interested in Simon's disapproval of his crude talk anyway.

Grass grew in the last ten feet or so before the soil really turned completely to sand, and a hundred different bushes, plants and trees eagerly soaked up sunlight right there along the shore. Tan, green and blue. Sky, sand, water, vegetation. No parents or teachers or administrators trying and failing to make sense of him, no cadets asking why he never seemed to talk, or bothering him about any number of things. Here, on this tropical beach, there was nothing but the sun overhead and the sound of the wind in the trees as a breeze came in off the water, and the gentle advancing and retreating of the waves. Simon took off his dress uniform jacket and walked with it under his arm, liking the solitude of the beach as much as he'd liked the solitude of the forest.

The beach turned out to curve and weave with the shape of the island for several miles. Simon went the whole length of it, glancing up at the mountains above now and then. Man, they were tall. Simon had always kind of pictured remote islands in the pacific as being small, very simple geographically, and flat. Much closer to the Midway Atoll, say, than here. This place was not only incredibly varied geographically, having its own fresh water inland areas, beaches, mountains, and forest, it was massive. Simon had no idea of just how big it was, but his guess was 10 miles from one end to the other. Maybe more.

When Simon's bladder started to bother him, he retreated into the forest, got behind a tree, and urinated. Only when he zipped up his dress pants and resumed exploring did Simon realize he could have just pissed on the beach. He could have done his business anywhere he wanted, in fact. But old habits died hard, and unlike some of the guys, Simon was not looking for any excuse or none to whip his thing out. Besides, if they were here for all that long, there'd need to be some kind of rules for that. If guys just took care of business anyplace at all, you'd eventually wind up stepping in a 'present' left behind by a classmate.

Simon spotted a horseshoe crab along the water's edge, flipped over on its shelled back. Its legs were moving around, and a wave would move it a few inches or a foot now and then, but it wasn't going anywhere. Simon came over, set down his dress jacket, and turned the crab upright. It promptly scuttled back into the ocean, and Simon thought he saw a few others near it as it disappeared beneath the waves.

The beach started to turn rougher and rocker after another mile or so. Simon saw cliffs rising above him- a big change from the gentle, sloping land that came down from the mountains and extended out to the beaches. There were a few spots that looked like you might be able to climb them, and some pale-colored boulders, probably broken off from the rock along this part of the island, lay in the water nearby. There was one spot where it looked like a footpath had almost been carved into the rock; it was just about perfect, maybe three or four feet wide and at a grade gentle enough anybody could walk up it. Simon did, heading up the side of the cliffs. He wondered how it was possible that the rock here was pale, almost white, when so much of the rest of the island had gray and black. It was ironic, but Simon wished the teachers in the science department were here. They'd have had a ball explaining everything about this place.

Tall, wavy grass grew on the top of the cliff, and Simon felt it tickle the bare sides of his torso as he walked through it. Turning back out to sea, Simon spotted something he'd almost missed. Off in the distance, a fair distance out from the edge of this island, were two small isles, not far from each other. They didn't look very big; the one Simon was on dwarfed them. They were only even visible because of the rich green tropical vegetation covering them. The waters of the Pacific were such a beautiful shade of blue, as they stretched off to the horizon, it was hard to tell where the sea ended and the sky began. Simon thought about calling out to the small islands briefly, but even from here he could tell there were no signs of human presence. He'd be crazy to start hollering at them, and he'd have had to yell pretty loud anyway, with them being at least a mile away.

Simon headed inland and uphill, eventually reaching a clearing where he could look out and see the mountain he'd spotted earlier, the towering peak that had to be the highest point on the island. It was from between this mountain and the one next to it that the water of the pond primarily came from, but as high up as it went, being touched at the top by some low-lying clouds, Simon would have bet more of the fresh water ultimately ran down off the side of the taller one. Big, impressive mountains always had a name, but this one didn't. Nothing on this island had a name besides the humans who'd just come here.

Insects sang in the trees nearby, and Simon looked up, captivated by that mountain, thinking of how fleeting humans and their all-important names were when you were taken this far from civilization. That mountain, the highest in a range that dominated the inner-most parts of the island, was nameless, timeless. Surrounded by the endless waters of the Pacific, it stood, defiant and enduring. It be called Mount Simon or Mount Ketchup or Mount Big-Men-In-Leather-Shorts for all it mattered. Simon felt so small and insignificant compared to that mighty peak, thousands of years old, vegetation covering with green flanks that had surely once been bare. Yet he was fascinated by it enormously, and he sat down to watch it for a while. Apart from the birds calling and the insects buzzing and the wind rushing through the trees, Simon couldn't hear a thing. It was so quiet here. He wondered for a time if he could just stay here on this island, making a simple living. Chances were the adults trying to figure out what to do with him might actually be relieved to have such a problem off their hands.

That was all Simon was to some people back in civilization, a problem. A headache. An oddly quiet, thoughtful kid who was clearly smart and did few of the things his peers usually did.

Eventually, thirsty though Simon was becoming, his bladder started to bother him again. He got up and started to unzip his pants, then turned as he sensed movement off to his right.

"Ah!" Simon exclaimed.

The darkly-colored pig let out a surprised squeal and darted away into the brush, and within just moments the sight and sound of it had disappeared into the jungle.

Rustling in the bushes below the rocky clearing- Simon went to the edge and looked down, and a trio of pigs bolted into and out of view. They too were gone in seconds. Simon wondered if one of those three wasn't the one he'd just seen. The pig had been standing completely still when he'd turned around; at first Simon hadn't even noticed it. How long had it stood there, silently watching Simon? Pigs were said to be more intelligent than people thought; they were at least as smart as dogs, if Simon remembered right. That pig had doubtless been wondering, in its own way, who Simon was and what he was doing here. The boy surely smelled foreign and strange, and the pig had been curious. But his sudden movement and surprised exclamation had in turn startled the pig, which acted on its survival instincts and ran for it. Simon knew it was silly, but he wished the pig could have known somehow that he meant it no harm.

Oh, well. It was an interesting discovery. Ironically, Simon's next thought was that this could be good news for the group, as there was a source of meat on the island. Jack was probably gonna love that.

Simon unzipped his fly and pissed down into the bushes below him, then zipped back up again and headed into the forest, continuing to explore.

 **XX**

After they'd gone to the pond that Simon found this morning, Ralph had directed everyone to spread out and start looking for food, as well as survey the terrain around them. After going with Ralph, Pablo, Roger and Rapper to find this grassy hill past the end of the cove where the big damn rocks were, Jack had returned to the cove and was currently hoisted up on Roger's sturdy shoulders, working to pick fruit from the lower branches of this tall tree. Jack didn't really get into all that symbolic crap, but he privately thought it was kind of cool how he was sitting on Roger's shoulders, of all people. Where would he have been if it wasn't for Captain Roger backing his every play? Roger had basically carried Jack on his shoulders from the day they met, using his height and strength and fearsome temper to make sure no one fucked with Jack Merridew. Raised up on Roger's shoulders, Jack had become one of the most respected boys in the school.

Damn, Jack looked good up here, shirtless and working hard. It was a shame the girls couldn't see him right now. Roger would have backed him even if there were some around; he'd be the perfect wingman. Jack reminded himself to hook Roger up with someone one of these days. He owed Roger and it would be cool to help him get some.

Nearby, Tony was crouched up on one of the tree's bigger, lower-level branches, picking away at some of its fruits or berries. He would eat one to test it, then drop the rest down where one of the twins would catch it. Beside Jack and Roger, the other twin, Will, and Pablo were working to put a shelter together, setting up a basic frame for a tent from wood they'd gathered. They'd even found a natural substitute for rope to tie the branches together.

"Be careful!" the overweight boy called from a few feet away, looking up at Tony with his hands on his hips. "There's probably a lot of things that look okay, but are really poisonous!"

"I know what's poisonous or not," Tony replied, eating another piece of fruit. He spat out the seed in his hand, looked at it, then tossed it and reached for another fruit. "My brother did Outward Bound. He taught me."

"Did he do Outward Bound in the tropics?"

"Not exactly."

"Then where?"

"Colorado."

"There are totally different poisonous plants in Colorado, than in this place!" the fat boy said. "So we better take precautions, or it won't matter."

Jack yanked several pieces of fruit off the tree, then got out the knife he had with him and cut some of that substitute rope off from where it dangled, foot after foot, from up above. He cast a glance toward the overweight kid, scowling a little.

"What won't matter?" he asked, motioning to Roger to let him down. He handed the knife back to Roger. While one of the twins put the gathered fruit in a small pile, Jack and Roger joined in with building the wood tent frame.

"Once we get rescued," the fat boy answered.

Oh, man, did this kid need a reality check.

"You better start learning to live with yourself," Jack said, "cause we ain't gonna get rescued."

"What're you talking about?" the boy demanded.

"Just being logical," Jack said, shrugging a bony shoulder. "A plane goes down in the middle of the ocean, there's no wreckage; who's gonna find us?"

The pudgy boy squinted and scowled through his thick glasses. "Why don't you just shut up?"

We have a winner!

That was Jack's favorite exclamation whenever a new kid was dumb enough to defy him. He and Roger had ways of making sure all the big-time operators, the wannabe tough guys who were showing up at Bunker Hill by the dozen these days, got real humble real fast. This kid would learn. He'd learn because Jack would teach him. Starting right now.

Jack gave an incredulous laugh and looked at the boy with amusement and contempt. "Are you telling me to shut up?"

"What we need around here is positive people. Not people trying to scare people!"

"What we don't need around here is you, shitbrain!" Jack retorted.

"His name's not shitbrain," one of the twins said. Then together, they added, "It's Piggy!"

There was a moment's pause as the word sunk in. Then Jack grinned and laughed. "Yeah, Piggy!" he exclaimed, slapping palms with Sam and Eric and pointing at the fat boy as the guys around him joined in his laughter. Roger pulled his nostrils up and made oinking, grunting sounds.

Ralph came over, scowling. "Shut up! Everybody just shut up!"

Jack shrugged, saying "Whatever" without saying a word.

"It's just 'cause you're new," Ralph said, turning to the overweight boy.

"No, it's not," he answered. "It's always this way."

Roger oinked some more, which got the guys working on the tent laughing again.

"I said shut up!" Ralph barked at them, and Jack just shrugged again. It didn't matter. The fat kid had a nickname now, and not even the Colonel was gonna be able to change that.

 **XX**

Over the next two hours, groups of cadets began returning to the cove, bringing all the food they'd been able to find and carry. It was piled at the base of the tree they'd all slept near the previous night, opposite of where Captain Benson was lying in its shade. It gave each of the boys some hope to see the amount of food they'd been able to find. It still wasn't going to be a big feast for everybody, but if this was rationed right, they at least wouldn't starve.

As the boys began to gather, Piggy waded into the shallow water, pale blue from the white sand underneath it, and retrieved a good-sized sea shell, a conch. He picked it up and exhaled into it, and it let out a long, loud sound, carrying remarkably well. Piggy blew into the conch again, and the sound was surely audible well beyond the sandy cove. Boys who hadn't returned yet came running out of the jungle, drawn by the sound, and soon everyone was present. Simon was sitting there at the base of the tree, beside Captain Benson, although nobody was especially sure when he'd shown up. Simon would sort of just come and go, it seemed, and he didn't announce his presence the way the other boys did.

Once it was clear everyone was there, Ralph held up the conch.

"Okay, first things first. Whoever has the conch gets to speak. That's the rule."

"Is this like assembly, sir?" Larry asked.

"Yes," Ralph said, "except whoever gets to speak wants to."

"But only if you have the conch!" Piggy said firmly.

"Right," Ralph said. He paused, then went on, "There doesn't seem to be anybody here except us."

"And a pig," Pablo added.

"It was a wild boar!" Rapper exclaimed. They'd both allegedly seen a pig sometime earlier in the day and had been talking about it since then.

"No, it was a regular pig," Pablo said. "Big, but regular."

"How do we really know there's any pig?" Tony asked. "I didn't see any. What if it was something else?"

"There's pigs here," Simon said, and everyone looked at him, as if startled that he'd even talked. "I saw three or four earlier today."

Somebody oinked, and a bunch of boys started laughing.

"Okay, cadets," Ralph said, quieting them down. "Like I said, this island's probably uninhabited. There might be some pigs here, or wild boar. But I think I got a look at this place from the air before we went down yesterday, and I didn't see anything but green. But we're not entirely by ourselves, either. We've got Captain Benson with us."

"Can I speak?" Piggy asked. Ralph passed him the conch, and the pudgy boy looked around at them all behind his thick glasses.

"The most important thing is, who knows we're here? Nobody knows we're here! They know where we were going, but they don't know where we are because we never got where we were going!"

"Gee, didn't we?" Tony sarcastically interjected, prompting another round of laughter and a glare from Ralph. "Sorry," Tony said, suppressing guilty smile as he looked down at the sand.

Piggy handed the conch back to Ralph. "So it looks like we're the only people on this island, and nobody knows where we are at the moment," Ralph said.

"But we don't know for sure!" Jack said, leaning with one arm propped on Roger's right shoulder. "We've gotta explore more."

"Right," Ralph said, nodding. "There's a lot of things we gotta do. Exploring's one, and another… we should set up some kinda steady signal, like a fire, and keep it going all the time. And we're gonna have to have rules. We'll need to be organized, guys. That's the only way this'll work."

"Can I have the conch?" Jack asked, and he approached Ralph and stood next to him as he was handed the conch. "Ralph's right," the blond said, looking around at everyone. "We've gotta make a fire."

"Sir, are you the leader?" Larry asked.

"Jack's the oldest," Roger said, as if that settled everything.

"But Ralph's the colonel!" Pablo said, pointing. "He's the highest rank here!"

The other boys started nodding and murmuring assent.

"Yeah, that's right."

"He's the colonel."

"I think it should be Ralph."

"Yeah, it oughta be Ralph."

Looking around, Jack looked like he'd swallowed something sour for just a moment. Then his handsome face broke into a charming smile, and he glanced at Ralph. "I guess you just won the election."

"It doesn't matter who's in charge," Ralph said. "We've just gotta work together."

"Well, what's the order, Colonel?" Jack asked. "How do you want us set up? We could do four platoons of six guys each."

Ralph looked around, considering that. "Okay, how about this. We're gonna have a couple groups that I'm gonna need people for. Each one will have a specific task that they do. We'll have the Hunters, the Builders, the Firewatchers, and we'll have a few guys look after Captain Benson. We can't do much for him so we'll need someone with him as much as possible." He looked around for a moment. "Hunters will do exploring, but like the name says, they're mainly out to get us meat from one of those pigs if we can catch one. Who wants to volunteer for that?"

Jack and Roger had their hands up before Ralph even finished the sentence. Will, Steve, Rapper, Andy, Patterson, and Larry also held their hands up. Eric had argued with his brother earlier in the day about something that wasn't really well-remembered, but the resentment still lingered. Sam had called him "dork" during the argument, and he knew Eric hated it when Sam called him that. Eric waited to see if Sam would raise his hand, then held up his hand. Sam huffed and crossed his arms.

"Okay, so we've got nine hunters. Roger, you're captain. Do you want command?"

"I'll be leader of the Hunters," Jack spoke up, sounding eager. "I'll do it."

"Roger, is that all right with you?" Ralph asked.

Roger shrugged. "Yeah."

"I'll do it, too," Simon said.

A lot of boys cast surprised glances at Simon; nobody had expected the quiet wanderer to want to join the group's scouts and fighters. Simon appeared to have hesitated some at first, but as if he'd remembered something, he put up his hand and spoke, just like that.

"Ten Hunters," Jack said. He gave a nod to Simon, surprised and impressed. Simon might have been quiet, but he was smart, and tall for his age. He'd found everybody water this morning, and he'd confirmed that pigs were here on the island. And, with his newfound dislike for Piggy, Jack was plenty willing to give Simon a chance to prove himself.

"Okay, ten," Ralph said, nodding. "Next is the Builders. Who can I get for that?"

Piggy raised a hand.

"I'll do that," Tony said.

"Me, too," Sheraton said.

Tex raised his hand. Billy, John, and Rusty followed him.

"Seven Builders," Ralph said. "Nobody in this group has rank off the bat." He hesitated. "Piggy, you want to lead this bunch?"

"Sure," Piggy said, after hesitating himself.

Tony looked like he regretted volunteering for the Builders, but he kept his peace. A few of the other boys looked skeptical, but they didn't say anything, either.

"I'll do Firebuilders," Pablo said.

"Okay, Sergeant, you've got it," Ralph said, nodding. "Who else?"

Luke, Peter, and Greg raised their hands. Sam, still not looking at his twin, raised his hand.

"Five Firebuilders," Ralph observed. "Okay. Good." He turned to the smallest, Mikey. "I want you to help me keep an eye on Captain Benson, okay?"

"If he's got any money on him, better hide it from the Jew," Roger said, grinning wolfishly; Jack and some of the other guys laughed.

"Shut your fuckin' can, Roger!" Ralph yelled, stunning everybody into silence. Roger's grin dropped off his face, and while he appeared to calmly accept the rebuke, nobody saw the cold, hateful look in his eyes.

Mikey didn't even look up to see any of this. Like all of the little ones, he was terrified of Roger. The older boy was mean. Really mean. Mikey didn't understand anything of what was happening. He just wanted the big kids to leave him alone.

"Okay," Ralph said after a moment, speaking calmly again. "We've got our assignments. Now, just because you've got a unit now doesn't mean you aren't part of a bigger one. We're all on the same team. So if you're a Hunter and you're back here at the cove, help out a Builder with something. Take a shift on Firewatch. That kind of thing. I don't wanna see guys standing around because something 'isn't their job'." Ralph looked around. "Anyone have any questions?"

There were none.

"Okay. If you think of any later, ask. Hunters, bring us back some wood for a fire, help out the Firewatchers. Builders, I want some shelters set up. Pablo, stick around. Dismissed."

"Yeah, Ralph?" Pablo said as the meeting broke up.

"The fire's important," Ralph said simply. "I want you keeping a close eye on that. It matters even during the day, but at night- that's our best chance. Anyone sees that, they'll know people are here."

Pablo nodded. "We'll get it done."

"Good," Ralph said, pleased. "I'm counting on you."

 **XX**

"All right, so what now?" Tony asked as the Builders gathered around Piggy. He was the most skeptical of the group about Piggy, and probably wished he'd signed on with Jack.

"Ralph has it right," Piggy said. "We need to have a real camp here. We got away with sleeping under a tree yesterday, but we can't keep doing that."

"So why don't we look for some caves?" John asked. "We'd get the best shelter in a cave."

"If someone comes looking for us, we don't want to be way inland," Piggy answered. "We want to be right where they can see us. And we don't know if the caves are safe. What if we move into one and then it turns out there's poisonous snakes that live there? Plus, we don't know what size caves we'll find, if we find any. We have all kinds of stuff to work with to build shelters everyone can stay in."

Gesturing at the skeleton of the tent that had been assembled, Piggy said, "But the first thing we need to do is finish this. We need to keep our food someplace safe, not just lying around. Let's get this done first, then set up our own shelters."

It was sensible advice, and the other boys nodded, surprised and a little impressed. They went to work doing what Piggy said, feeling better about the group they'd signed on with. Maybe being a Builder wouldn't be so bad after all. The Army's Corps of Engineers were basically the Builders of the military, and they were pretty cool. The fact was they needed a base, a camp. They couldn't just sleep out in the open and leave their food lying on the ground. Piggy was right about all that, and while that realization boggled some of the Builders' minds-most of them preferred the brassy voice and strong overconfidence of Jack- they gained some respect for the heavyset youth nonetheless.

Ralph, watching from a distance, nodded to himself, impressed and pleased. He almost hadn't done this. Organizing the other twenty-three cadets into ad hoc units had not been planned; originally he'd figured he'd just keep everyone together in one group and give people assignments day by day. This was looking to be a much better setup. The boys had direction and purpose now, and you could tell they liked that. Pablo had definitely liked being put in charge of the Firewatchers unit, and Jack and Roger just loved being the leaders of the Hunters now.

It was a good decision, and Ralph knew that. He watched Pablo and his guys gathering wood to take up to the grassy hill a mile or two from the cove, the one with a lone tree at the top. Jack, Roger and the rest of the Hunters came out of the jungle with a whole bunch of sticks and branches they'd found. The ones they wanted most, they kept, but the rest were handed over to the Builders and the Firewatchers for use. Already, there was a friendly rivalry between the units, but cooperation most of all. The guys were getting the idea they were all in this together.

"Sir?" Mikey asked from close by.

Ralph jumped a little; he'd forgotten the tiny boy was even here!

"Yes?" Ralph asked, looking down at him.

Mikey peered up at him with a pained expression. He had both hands on the seat of his dress pants and looked pretty unhappy.

"I have to go."

"Well, go!" Ralph exclaimed, surprised. "You don't need to ask me to do it."

"Roger said I have to ask. He says he'll hurt me if I don't ask first. He says I gotta hold it until I can't if I haven't asked."

Oh, no. That was just not going to do. Ralph kept the anger out of his expression, but he made a mental note to have a talk with Roger sometime soon. He knew Roger was said to be a rather unpleasant guy, very feared among the many cadets who couldn't match his strength. Among the little ones, Roger was especially feared. That Mikey had stood here in silence while agony built up inside him spoke volumes of how scared he was of Roger.

"You have my permission to go to the bathroom, Mikey," Ralph said. "I'm in charge and I say you don't need to ask. Let someone know, but you can go whenever you need. Just find someplace private to take care of things, okay?"

Mikey continued to stand there. "Um, what do I wipe with, sir?"

"A leaf would probably work." Ralph hesitated, wondering if they had poison ivy, oak, sumac or any of that fun stuff on this island. Well, relatively few plants that appeared in eastern Pennsylvania seemed to be here… it was probably safe enough. "Yeah, that will. Go on, Mikey, and come back once you're done."

Relief spread over Mikey's face. "Yes, sir!" he exclaimed, and practically ran for the trees.

It wasn't that surprising that Roger was still trying to bully kids here. Ralph was gonna have to talk with him and explain that it wasn't just inappropriate here, but anywhere. He was going to have to cut it out. The trouble was that he was pretty much Jack's right arm, and if Ralph pulled Roger aside to dress him down for something, Jack would inevitably notice and get into it. It had been that way at school, and it would be that way here.

What was surprising was that Simon had signed on with the Hunters. Quiet, solitary, wandering Simon, in the same unit as Jack, Roger, and some of their many admirers. It didn't make sense to Ralph, but Simon seemed sure of his decision. Ralph figured he probably had his reasons. You didn't get much out of Simon a lot of the time, but he'd talk if you indicated you wanted to. Maybe Ralph could ask him about it sometime, if only out of curiosity.

 **XX**

Jack and his Hunters made their way back to the cove after a second venture out into the jungle, hunting- ha!- for more sticks and branches. They found over two dozen good ones, and were carrying them all back to the beach. A third trip out into the jungle was being planned, a longer-range scouting mission to try and find more food.

"Never thought you'd be so good at finding wood, Jack," Roger said with a smirk.

"I hate you, Roger," Jack said, smiling at him.

"I hate you…?"

"Captain."

"I think they should make you the Colonel and let Ralph be a major, boss," Roger said.

"Colonel Merridew," Jack said, trying it out. He grinned. "Got a nice ring to it, doesn't it? You know, I think they really oughta- shit!"

"What, Jack?" Rapper asked, startled.

"What happened?" Simon asked from nearby.

"Someone took a shit and I just stepped in it!" Jack exclaimed, his surprise swiftly turning to rage. Whoever did it had also urinated, and they'd apparently been holding both for a while, because Jack was surprised any of these guys could make such a big mess. He'd squashed the warm, brown pile of fresh turds under his bare foot, having left his leather dress shoes back at the cove. God fucking damn it. Someone was going to pay for this.

"I bet I know who did it, Jack," Andy spoke up.

"Oh, yeah?" Jack said, examining his foot as he tried to wipe it on the ground.

"I think I saw Mikey running for the woods as we headed out. We must've just missed him."

"It was Mikey," Roger said. "I told the little Jew he better get an officer's permission before he shits or pisses. I said I'd fuck his world up if he didn't." The muscular boy smiled. "He was in a lot of pain when I last saw him."

Jack laughed, and the Hunters followed his lead, as he knew they would. Even Simon, though he was probably doing it for appearances, to fit in. But, hell- he wasn't the only one doing that! A lot of these guys were just sucking up to Jack, trying to please him and earn his respect. Simon had probably just seen the light and decided to march with the badasses.

"Have a talk with him, will you, Roge?" Jack said. "He disobeyed orders."

"I bet Ralph said he could go," Rapper said.

"I'll talk to him," Roger agreed.

"Fuck," Jack hissed, trying and failing to get the rest of the shit off his right foot. He managed to get rid of most of it, though, and he resolutely walked onward. He was handling the heat much better now, stripped to the waist and with his uniform pants cut into shorts with Tony's pocket knife. Roger had one too, but goddamn, Tony's was nice. Best one here by Jack's estimation.

"He'll be sorry, boss," Roger assured the blond, rightly guessing Jack's mood.

"Good," Jack said, pleased. He led the guys back into the sandy cove, where the newly-formed Builders were busy assembling a base camp. They'd taken the triangular tent frame that Jack, Will, Roger and the twins had assembled and added a bunch of stacked branches to it, covering the sides. Inside the food gathered so far was sheltered somewhat.

Mikey looked anxiously at the tall, confident, masculine Hunters as they emerged into the cove from the trees. Jack didn't even bother looking at him. He'd be learning a lesson soon enough. A few punches, a little up-close conversation, and Mikey would remember who he had to listen to. Jack didn't really care if little ones like Mikey suffered some. The pain would strengthen them, or break them. It was a harsh world and bullying from guys like Roger and Jack just introduced kids to the fact.

They set all the sticks they wanted down with the ones they'd gathered last time, and Jack and Roger brought the rest to the Builders. Jack ignored Piggy, who didn't look altogether pleased to see him, and spoke instead to Tony.

"Tony, you got that pocket knife?"

"Who wants to know?" Tony asked back in that brassy voice of his.

"Jack Merridew wants to know."

"In that case, here you go, sir," Tony said, producing the knife and handing it over.

"Thanks," Jack said, smiling; he'd always found it easy to be gracious when things were going his way, when people were giving him what he wanted.

"Sure thing."

Jack returned to his group ten feet away, and set to sharpening one end of a solid-looking stick. Roger's knife and Tony's were put to good use for about an hour as they worked on one stick, then another. Roger handed his knife off to Andy, and Jack handed Tony's to Simon after a while, not wanting to do all the work himself, and also wondering if Simon would be any good at it.

Turned out he was. The spearpoints that Simon fashioned a couple sticks' one end into were as sharp and deadly-looking as any of the others. His own, the bamboo stick Simon had found in the morning, now had a deadly look to one end, while the other allowed it to be used as a regular walking stick.

Jack smiled, pleased at their progress. Weapons. They were making weapons. Not even a full day here yet, and already they'd brought mankind's affinity for tools and deadly force onto the island.

Roger, sitting nearby, caught Jack's gaze and gave one of his wolf-like grins. He was pleased, too.

"It's cool that you joined us," Rapper said, looking at Eric and Simon. "We're the biggest group here because we're the best."

"Sam's a dork," Eric said, glowering at his twin, who glared back and resumed working alongside Piggy. "I'm glad he's not in the Hunters."

"Why'd you guys get mad at each other?" Andy asked.

"He started it," Eric said.

"Maybe you guys will do better being in different groups," Simon spoke up. "You can have some space that way."

Eric shrugged. He didn't seem to want to talk about it.

"You guys all made a good choice," Jack said, sharpening his stick some more with Tony's excellent pocket knife. Wood shavings lay all around on the sand near the Hunters, evidence of their work. "This is the infantry basically, except we don't have all the rules the Army does, or the Academy. Here, we get to do what we want."

"What Jack wants," Roger stressed.

Jack grinned. "Yes, what I want. But trust me, you guys will all want to do the same thing. This is the group with the most fun and the least rules. We're gonna bring the food home, and we're gonna be the ones everyone needs and counts on. "

"Sounds cool," Eric said, looking more enthusiastic.

"I'm up for it," Simon said.

The other boys all added similar comments, and several expressed remorse for not saying they wanted Jack in charge earlier.

Jack just smiled and kept sharpening his stick. He looked so good right now, lean and muscular and with all this skin showing, he'd be getting a great tan while he was here. If only there were girls around. Jack would have been making little Jacks all damn day with them, as head of the Breeders. If only they could have a group like that. Hell yes he should have been in charge of everybody. Being in charge of the Hunters, though, was turning out to be an acceptable substitute.

After working on them for a little while longer, Jack and the others had fifteen sturdy-looking home-made spears with them. They'd had to discard about nine more that had turned out to be unsuitable. Some, the wood was too soft or had started to rot, and others broke unexpectedly while being tested with hard jabs at the sand. But that was why they'd brought so many extras back with them.

"So, are we ready to go hunt?" Simon asked.

"Yeah, can we go?" Eric asked a moment later.

Jack grinned. He'd make hunters out of all of these guys. Fierce, strong hunters who feared nothing and nobody. It spoke volumes that the largest number of boys had signed up to be Hunters under Jack. Ralph may have had higher rank, but Jack was the one more boys admired and wanted to be like. He'd overtake Ralph soon enough.

"Sure, guys," Jack said, standing up with his spear in hand. "Let's head out."

As the Hunters passed the tree that Captain Benson lay under, Roger stopped briefly and said something to Mikey. Jack didn't know what, but Mikey went pale and started shaking. Jack nodded to himself, satisfied. That Mikey had probably not purposefully crapped where Jack could step in it didn't matter. What did was that he'd made a mistake. Mistakes, as Bunker Hill had repeatedly taught Jack, had to be punished. Mikey had to be punished for crossing the leader of the Hunters. That was how things were, and how they were meant to be.

 **XX**

Jack led the Hunters out to the fresh water pond that Simon had found, where they all had a drink before heading onward, going further inland at the foot of the towering mountain that Simon theorized was probably a long-dormant volcano.

"I can't wait till we find one of those pigs," Will said. "Seriously, I just can't wait."

"Can you imagine?" Andy asked the group. "We'll have so much to eat."

"Bacon, pork, oh, man, it's gonna be so great," Will sighed.

"Knock it off, dork, I'm hungry!" Eric exclaimed.

"You knock it off!" Will shot back.

"Both of you, quiet!" Roger barked. "You mess up the hunt and you'll be sorry."

Jack loved having Roger around. There were times when Jack would think something and Roger would do it, or say it. There were times when he didn't even need to give a spoken order. The blond had just been getting annoyed with the bickering going on behind him, and lo and behold, Roger told them all to shut up. So the fuck what if Roger had a mean streak a mile wide? Nobody was perfect. And so long as Jack met the few demands Roger made, there was no friend more loyal.

Everybody had things they wanted. Everybody had things they were after, and almost no one's friendship actually came for free. Even the guys who admired Jack and tried to imitate him and win his respect were after something- they wanted to be Jack and would have gladly taken his place if they could. Everybody wanted something from you. Roger was just more up front about the fact that his friendship was not without conditions.

As Jack led the way into the jungle, a bright color, very different from the dozens of shades of green that surrounded him, got the blond teenager's attention. It was red! What was that?

Looking directly towards it, Jack saw a tiny cluster of small red berries. Almost immediately, what Piggy said that morning came to mind. Ooh, dangerous plants out here, were there? Well, Jack figured, he better keep a close eye on these berries. Real close.

In almost instinctive defiance of the fat boy's words, Jack moved in and picked all the berries. There were maybe twelve altogether, and he gave six to Roger while keeping the rest for himself. Never one to hesitate or second-guess anything he did, Jack opened his mouth and tossed the bright red berries in. They tasted sharp and tangy, almost like cranberries. Not bad; not bad at all. Jack liked the taste, and smiled as he chewed and swallowed. Of course the berries tasted good. Of course Piggy had been wrong about the unknown food here possibly being dangerous.

Shows what he knows! Jack thought smugly, and he turned to the other Hunters. "Those are some good berries. Keep your eyes out for more, guys." With that, he led them on and further into the jungle.

* * *

 **A/N: 4-11-2017. Chapter 2 is done! I want to thank AM83220, 1-1 Marines, and the guest reviewer "ana" for their feedback and support. It is much appreciated.**

 **Ever notice how often the pilots buy it in works of fiction, especially military fiction, when a fixed or rotary wing aircraft goes down? Seriously. Just about every video game and movie I've come across where a crash happens, the pilot(s) don't make it even if everyone else does. I mean I get crashes are dangerous but damn.**

 **To ana- these boys are not in the military. They attend a fictional private military boarding school, and this school, as do all American military high schools, uses American military rank for its staff and cadets. Thus Jack, Ralph and Roger are officers while Steve is a corporal and Pablo is a sergeant, and the rest are all privates. There's nothing wrong with the questions you asked, and I understand the difficulty if English is not your first language.**

 **The boys in this movie are generally around ten or twelve, some being thirteen, fourteen or fifteen, with Jack the oldest at sixteen. The youngest are eight or nine.**

 **Military high schools in the United States also have uniforms, unit structure, and systems of discipline based off the American military. This can be confusing to people who don't know how it all works; in a military academy, the rank insignia is based off, usually, US Army ROTC insignia, which has the same ranks (sergeant, captain, lieutenant colonel) but not the same insignia as the regular Army. Also, a company of cadets, led by a captain or first lieutenant, is usually 20-30, which is the size of an Army platoon. A cadet battalion is usually the highest unit at the school, involving 200-400 at most of the private military schools. Having any kind of rank as a cadet means more work for still no pay, because it's a school, and you/your parents pay for you to go there.**

 **Roger is in many ways the Dragon while Jack is the Big Bad, indeed, as 1-1 Marines pointed out. Jack's the one who makes sure Ralph's attempts at creating order on the island fail, and does his utmost to destroy him in the original story. Roger, though, is the one you have to get past if you want to mess with Jack. Cross Jack, and Roger will more likely come deal with you than Jack will. Not because Jack can't, but because that's what Roger does. He likes to hurt people, so when somebody gets in Jack's way or gets him mad, Roger makes sure they regret it. Roger knows he can hurt more people more often if he backs Jack, and Jack knows he can have more authority and power if he has Roger supporting him and acting as his enforcer. Jack is just a moral coward, overall, with a small and suppressed good side. Roger has no good side. He is the coldest and meanest of all the boys on the island, and the only one with absolutely no conscience at all.**

 **I am glad everyone likes my work so far. I hope to continue to do well as I write the rest of the story. To my reviewers and the rest of my readers, thank you again. I hope to complete this story no later than December 2017.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

When everyone got up on the morning of their third day on the island, Captain Benson was missing. No one knew where he had gone. Simon led a team of Hunters in one direction, while Jack and Roger took two more, and collectively the three groups came back with nothing. There was simply no sign or evidence of where the school official had gone.

"I don't understand it," Simon said, sitting down near the huts the Builders had constructed as food was passed out. "He just got up and ran off in the middle of the night and nobody noticed?"

"Maybe he swam off," Rapper theorized.

"He spent the last few days unconscious and sick and suddenly decided to go for a swim?"

"He was almost crazy, Simon," Ralph said. "Maybe he just fell off one of the cliffs and he drowned."

"Then why didn't Pablo or any of the other Firewatchers hear anything last night?"

"He might've gotten pretty far away from us."

"We gotta keep looking," Simon insisted. "We can't just leave him out there."

"Yes, we can," Jack replied immediately. "You heard what Ralph said. Captain Benson was out of his mind. He wasn't gonna make it. We could spend all day looking for him, or we could just look out for ourselves."

"That's not quite what I meant," Ralph said. "If we can find him, we need to take care of him."

"Why bother? Are any of us doctors? We'd just be wasting food the rest of us could eat."

"If we find him, we're gonna take care of him," Ralph said firmly. "That's it. You'd want us to look after you if you were sick instead of him."

Jack shrugged indifferently. "I'm not sick," he said, as if that explained everything. "I'm just being logical."

Ralph didn't look happy about it, but he couldn't find a direct way to rebuke what Jack had said. He instead simply said, "Captain Benson is missing, guys. I don't know if he's even alive or not but until we know more, we're considering him missing. We can't keep up a full-time search but keep watching for him. We gotta bring him back if we can."

 **XX**

Just before leading the Hunters out from the cove, Jack approached Ralph, who was looking at the base of the tree where Captain Benson had been, still trying to make sense of how and why he'd left in the middle of the night. The ranking cadet had ditched most of his uniform by now, as had everyone else. Everyone was going around in gray uniform pants cut into shorts, or just with their underwear on. Discarded dress jackets were being stored inside the huts. Jack noticed that while he was taller and a year older, Ralph actually looked a little stronger than him. He'd have to work on that.

"Ralph, we gotta have the Builders dig a latrine."

Ralph turned around. "Huh?"

"Everybody's just been finding random places to go," Jack said. "Some kid crapped and pissed in the woods yesterday and I stepped in it. We can't keep doing it that way. We need a trench dug so people can shit and piss without leaving a mess around for everyone else."

Ralph thought about that for a few moments, then nodded. "I was gonna talk to everyone about when to use the bathroom. That should help a lot."

Jack was absolutely delighted to have his idea accepted right away. That was how he wanted it to be, always. Brilliant, handsome, dazzling Jack identifies the problem and proposes a solution, and everyone else recognizes the greatness they're dealing with and agrees with Jack immediately.

"Not so bad having me as XO, is it?" Jack asked, flashing Ralph a smile. Ralph gave a smile back, and Jack motioned to the Hunters and moved out towards the edge of the clearing. He turned around and raised his arms dramatically, raising his voice as he addressed the cadets milling around the cove. "The Hunters will-"

The blond broke off as he noticed something unusual. It was a steady, mechanical sound, the sound of blades cutting the air. It reminded Jack of a couple war movies he'd seen set in Vietnam. That was the war where the United States had been using all of those… helicopters!

"Hey, do you guys hear that?" Andy asked.

"Yeah, I hear it- hey!" Ralph said, his voice rising to a shout as he pointed at the olive drab machine flying low over the ocean past the entrance of the cove.

"Helicopter!" a dozen boys shouted at once.

"Hey!"

"Hey, over here!"

"We're over here, hey, hey!"

The helicopter flew on, its occupants oblivious to the boys shouting and waving on the sand a few hundred feet away. They were probably looking for remains of the downed aircraft, or survivors from it. Chances were if they didn't see anything now, they might not be back this way.

"Let's go!" Ralph shouted, bolting in the direction of the grassy hill where the signal fire had been built.

Jack sprinted after him, and the rest of the Hunters followed. It was a run of over a mile, nearly two, but lean, athletic Jack was up for it. He felt better than up for it. Even as Ralph began to strain and sweat as he ran, Jack found himself feeling energized, enjoying the headlong rush for the hill. The faster and farther he can, the better he felt. This was amazing. Jack was in good shape for his age, but his energy right now was surprising him. He overtook Ralph as they hit the base of the hill and the group of boys all bolted for the top. Right then, Jack wanted nothing more than to get that helicopter's attention. The hunt he had been about to lead could wait. Maybe rescue wasn't so bad. Maybe his suntan and some embellished tales of heroism could impress the girls. Maybe he'd get some when he got home.

Maybe he'd been wrong about how they weren't ever gonna get rescued.

The whole time, Jack could hear it, the steady whop-whop-whop-whop of the rotors. They had only seconds to get that thing to notice them and turn around, or they might be stuck here for a lot longer than a couple days.

As the boys reached the top of the hill, they started hollering and waving, jumping up and down. Ralph, despite being sweaty and visibly tired from the frantic run up here, did not hesitate for even a second. He began jumping and waving his arms, screaming at the helicopter. Jack and Roger stopped nearby, and the other Hunters followed their lead as they joined Ralph in trying to get the helicopter crew's attention. The machine flew on, never slowing or changing course. Jack could read the black letters on its tail, spelling out MARINES.

All the shouting and waving did no good at all. The helicopter flew away and never came back. Eventually, the sound of its engine and rotor blades faded into the distance, leaving only the heavy breathing of the boys who'd run all the way up here.

"Where are the Firewatchers?" Simon asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Ralph breathed. He took in a breath, sighed. "I don't know where they are."

Jack didn't feel winded. His Hunters didn't seem to be either. Sure, they had broken a sweat and were breathing harder, but that was it. Was Ralph out of shape or something?

Ralph looked down at the fire, still smoldering but having lost its strength hours ago from the look of things. "Goddamn it," he hissed, his voice full of anger and disappointment.

"Hey, guys," a boy called, and everyone turned to see Pablo, Sam, Peter, Greg and Mikey coming uphill towards them. "What happened? What's going on?"

"Pablo!" Ralph yelled, "Get yourself up here!"

The tan-skinned boy's eyes widened a little, but he quickened his pace. He hurried up to the group of well-armed Hunters and the leader of all the groups, and in moments had three visibly angry boys- Ralph, Roger and Jack- looming over him.

"Where the fuck were you guys?" Ralph demanded.

"Uh, well, we fell asleep," Pablo admitted. "We woke up a little while ago and went to try and find some food. We didn't find anything so we headed back to the cove and Piggy told us there was a helicopter and-"

"If you guys hadn't let the goddamn fire go out they would've seen it," Ralph fumed. "Pablo, I said I was counting on you! I said that! You had one job! One!"

"But- you- look, Ralph, we got tired!" Pablo protested.

"Face it, Pablo, you fucked up!" Ralph yelled in the younger boy's face. "We could've been rescued!"

"But-"

"Shut up!" Roger barked.

Jack felt his anger building. He couldn't even think of the last time he'd been this pissed off. He hadn't even expected to be so angry about this. Getting rescued was something Jack didn't have a lot invested in, because he didn't think it was possible. But he sure cared about it right now. Pablo's startled protests and surprised expression were just making Jack angrier. Pablo had fucked it up for everyone and now he couldn't even take responsibility for it.

Suddenly Jack gave in to the aggression rising in him, dropped his spear, and punched Pablo in the chest. The blow connected beautifully, with a nice-sounding thump. Pablo flew back a foot before crashing to the ground. Jack rushed up and kicked him in the groin, then stomped on his stomach. Pablo gave a strangled cry of pain and curled up, clutching at himself. The other Firewatchers stood frozen with terror, and Jack only got angrier as he saw how afraid they were. How dare they? How dare any of them fail at something they'd been told to do?

But the worst offender by far was Pablo. He had been in charge and he'd screwed up. Jack was going to kick him until he saw blood and Pablo was begging for mercy. He'd just kick the son of a bitch to death right here on this hill. He'd-

Someone grabbed his bony shoulders and pulled him away. Jack snarled and turned on him, but halted when he saw it was Ralph. "What?" he asked tersely.

"That's enough, Jack," Ralph said flatly.

"He fucked up; you said so!" Jack protested. "When you do something wrong you gotta be punished!"

"You don't need to attack him!"

"What, give him a few kicks?" Jack scoffed. "You wanna see me attack him? Come on, lemme show you. He fucked all of us over. He deserted his post!"

"In wartime, in the Army, they can kill you for that, Pablo," Roger remarked, sounding quite pleased at the idea.

"Alright, look, that's enough, guys," Ralph said. "Nobody else hit Pablo."

"He hasn't been punished enough," Jack insisted. "He needs to be punished so he learns his lesson."

"We're not going to beat him up any more," Ralph said firmly. "Just let it go, Jack."

Jack wanted to argue. The anger rushing through him said he should go on kicking until Pablo coughed up most of his guts. Maybe Pablo needed to be killed just to drive the point home that failures like his were taken seriously.

But Ralph stared back with forced calm as Jack glared, and finally the blond sighed. "Fine."

Pablo eventually stood, swaying on his feet, and he cowered in front of the three oldest boys. "I won't do it again, I promise," he said. He wouldn't look Jack in the eye, and he wouldn't look at Roger at all.

"You better not," Jack warned him. Ralph looked sharply at Jack but didn't say anything.

"This better not happen again," Ralph warned. "This fire needs to be kept going all the time. Luke and Tex will help you guys from now on unless we find Captain Benson." He looked around, still working to stay calm. "Jack, you can take your guys and hunt now."

"Sure, Ralph," Jack said. The anger was still with him, but he was glad for the chance to get the hunt going. He waved to the Hunters and, as always, they followed. Eric looked at his twin before moving out with the other Hunters. Sam looked at him and glanced away.

 **XX**

As they headed downhill and into the trees, Jack was still pulsing with anger. He felt so worked up, like he needed to go fight a bear or something to get it out of his system.

"Did you have to do that, Jack?" Simon asked.

"Yes," Jack answered instantly. "When someone fucks up they have to be punished for it. Pablo deserved worse than that."

"That was pretty cool how you punched him," Rapper said.

"Yeah, that was awesome!" Eric exclaimed, high-fiving Roger. "I wanna do that!"

"That was awesome, Jack," Roger said, setting a hand on Jack's right shoulder.

"Oh, yeah?" Jack replied.

"Yeah," Roger answered solemnly. He was visibly impressed, and it seemed like Jack had gained some points with him today. "You kicked his ass and he deserved it. Ralph shouldn't have stopped you."

The admiration of the other boys was something Jack was pretty well used to. Lots of guys wanted to be more like him. But Roger- he respected Jack and was fair to him, but so far hadn't really come across as an admiring type. Jack was inwardly surprised at himself for just losing his temper and attacking Pablo like that; he was normally short-tempered, but this was something entirely new. There'd been basically no fuse at all this time. He'd just exploded. And while he ordinarily would have been fine with just punching someone, this time had been brutal. Jack had been so angry, he'd set out to seriously harm Pablo. It wasn't something he'd admit in front of the guys, but Jack was startled at what he'd done.

But…

Here Roger was, looking at Jack with genuine admiration. He absolutely approved of what Jack had done. Absolutely.

"It felt pretty good," Jack admitted. He flashed a grin. "Guess Pablo learned himself a lesson, huh?"

"You bet he did, boss."

Jack's grin grew wider. The brief protest his conscience had raised was swiftly suppressed as he looked around and saw not only Roger looking at him with admiration, but pretty much everyone else here. Simon looked more neutral, but then, Simon was always neutral. But then, he didn't look like he actually disapproved, and in Jack's mind, that was basically cautious approval. Simon had even adopted the grimy, "infantry grunt" look that the Hunters were starting to use, wearing charcoal stripes under their eyes like war paint. He was getting the picture. He'd come around.

As if reading Jack's changing thoughts and mood, Roger said, "If it happens again, do it again. You did the right thing. It's the only way people learn."

"Yeah, you're right, Rog," Jack said, nodding. He considered himself the leader of the two of them, but he was glad to have Roger's approval. Roger was not an easy guy to impress, and to have him looking so clearly pleased with Jack- that was a pretty awesome thing.

"Let's go kill something, boss," Roger said, and the Hunters all gave hungry growls. Eric, Rapper, Larry, Patterson, Andy, Will, Steve, and even Simon looked ready as hell. There was something to it- they all felt fired up in the same way Jack did. Tons of energy, lots of aggression they couldn't wait to release. This hunt was going to be fun.

"Fucking A," Jack said, and he high-fived Roger. Just as they started into the forest, Jack spotted bright red to the left. It was more of those cranberries or whatever they were! A whole bunch of them! They'd found enough during the previous scouting missions that all of them had eaten some, but this was the biggest amount they'd seen so far.

"Hey, check it out, it's some more of those berries!" Eric exclaimed.

"No shit, dumbass," Simon said in unison with Roger.

Everyone stopped then and there, even Roger, and turned and gaped at Simon.

"Am I going mad, or did you just swear?" Jack asked the boy with the wavy, sandy-brown hair.

Simon shrugged. "I know how to." He seemed a little surprised himself but was trying to be casual about it. "It just slipped out. I don't know."

"Do it more often, Simon," Rapper said.

"Yeah, do some fucking swearing," Jack said, grinning, and he reached over and gave Simon a high-five. The younger boy gave a sheepish grin in return. "You're with the men now, Simon," Jack told him. "We don't go easy on the ears."

"I wanna be a Hunter," Simon said.

"Then you're off to a good start," Jack said, nodding. "Come on, guys, let's get some more of those berries that Fatass said we shouldn't eat!"

The boys all excitedly rushed towards the plant holding the berries, but held back as Roger and Jack took their share first. Once their leaders had eaten enough, the other Hunters hungrily plundered the remaining bright red berries. In less than a minute, every last one was taken and the boys were all happily chewing and gulping them down.

"They taste kinda sour, but, it's not like it's bad," Andy remarked.

"Kinda like cranberries," Rapper added. "These are way better."

"I like them," Simon said.

"I'm glad you all like the food me and Roger had the balls to try out for everyone!" Jack announced, and the boys all laughed. "Miss Piggy said we shouldn't but we know he was wrong, don't we?"

"Jack's always right," Roger declared, and the rest of the boys nodded and voiced agreement.

"There's some pigs out there and we're gonna find one and kill it," Jack said. "We're gonna show those girls who runs things around here. Come on, guys, let's go."

 **XX**

Hours later, Roger was creeping silently through the brush, using hand signals to coordinate the guys around him. The brown-haired teenager liked how things were going. He liked being on this island. No one could make him do anything he didn't want to do here, and his usual bullying of the younger boys was going even better than usual. Jack was even more powerful here than he was at school, because here, only Ralph could tell him what to do, and even then, it was only because Jack allowed it.

It had been amazing watching Jack explode into rage and punch Pablo to the ground earlier. The younger boy hadn't stood a chance. Jack hadn't even stopped there; he'd kicked and stomped on Pablo without hesitation, and would have done more if Ralph hadn't interfered.

That was good. Jack was a cool guy, but he let his conscience get to him too much. He was too soft, as macho and badass as he was. But maybe he was starting to change. There was definitely a good chance of that.

Roger's eyes, just a little better than 20/20, carefully scanned every tree, every bush, every stretch of green foliage. He couldn't wait to take down one of those pigs.

They'd been out here in this heat and humidity all this time, and Roger didn't feel bothered at all. Being dressed only in his underwear helped, definitely. But Roger wondered if he wasn't a Hunter at heart, if he didn't have primitive warrior ancestors from long ago giving him a gift for this kind of thing now. Maybe he was just in better contact with his savage forbears than most of the others were.

Feeling his bladder bothering him, Roger halted, squatted, and shifted his dirty briefs to one side. His penis popped out, and Roger urinated on the soil while still keeping a watchful eye out for prey. When he was done, Roger tucked himself back in his undergarments and kept moving. He'd barely made a sound the whole time, had barely moved. Roger had long ago mastered total control over everything he did, and no one moved more quietly. He was made to do what he was doing now, out in the elements, hunting prey.

Downhill, something rustled in the bushes. There was something in there…

With a high-pitched squeal, the black-colored boar sprang out of hiding and began to run for it. Some of the other boys cursed, already giving up, or exclaimed in surprise, taking too long to react. Roger did neither of these things. He sprang forward himself, leaping out in a carefully-aimed dive. Had he been a little bit off, Roger might have been pretty badly injured. But he'd aimed perfectly, and he crashed down on top of the pig, instantly wrapping his left arm around its torso while his right hand still held his spear. The pig squealed again in surprise and terror, and as the two of them rolled downhill, Roger fiercely resisted as it tried to kick him and make him let go.

He wasn't giving up. Not when he was this close. This fucker was dead.

POW!

The stars came out early as Roger's head struck a rock, and at the same time the damn pig kicked him in the gut. Roger's abs were tensed already, though, so he was able to mostly just shrug it off.

Goddamn it, he was not letting this son of a bitch go.

Roger grunted and cursed as he fought to keep hold of his spear, to take aim and strike. The two of them crashed into a tree, and Roger took that moment to pin the boar between his legs, heave himself up, raise his spear high in both hands, and plunge it down into the pig's neck. It gave a frantic squeal that was more like a scream, and as Roger yanked the spear out and struck again it was a scream. He stabbed again and again, and suddenly there was a great rush of blood as he got something real important. Roger didn't even slow down then; he stabbed the pig in the middle, running it through and pinning it to the ground. He held it down as its struggles and grunts became weaker and weaker, and a smile spread onto his filthy, blood-spattered face as it died.

Grinning like a devil that seizes lost souls, Roger got to his feet. Jack was there at the head of the group, having led the rest of the Hunters down the hill in a hurry. He approached his friend, peering at him with concern. "Roge, you okay, man? That was some jump."

"Got him," Roger said, grimacing as all the bruises he'd just earned announced themselves to him. "Right up his ass."

"Up the ass!" Eric exclaimed joyously, and Will started scampering around like a pig while Eric, Steve, Andy and Rapper jabbed at him with their own spears. Suddenly Eric poked Will right in his bottom, and Will cried out. "Hey, hey, cut it out! Stop it!"

"Knock it off, guys," Jack said.

Will got to his feet, glowering at them, clutching the back of his underwear. "You dorks. That hurt!"

"I know it hurt," Eric giggled.

"Man, look at him," Patterson said, staring at Roger.

The boys all turned back to look, and they were struck with awe at how dirty and savage Roger looked. The well-groomed cadet captain was gone. Instead there was Roger the barbarian, Roger the warrior. Roger the Hunter, free of all that make-believe military school crap. His torso was just about covered in dirt and blood, and the fierce grin that was on his face as that adrenaline high rushed through him made him look pretty fucking scary by his own estimation. That was good. Even Jack was a little afraid, but he didn't need to be. Roger dramatically knelt before Jack, holding up his spear in offering.

"Jack Merridew, Chieftain of the Hunters, I present you the Spear of the First Kill."

He bowed his head in supposed homage. Not that he was faking. Roger only made the occasional demand of Jack, set the occasional condition for their friendship. Other than that, he served Jack without question. Some people- too many- wasted their whole lives trying to be the ones in charge. Heinrich Himmler, Roger's moral idol even if he was a desk-bound pansy, had understood that. It was good to be the king. It was better to be the king's right hand, the one he absolutely could not do without, the one who made so much of what the king did possible. Roger couldn't "speak good" and he knew he couldn't. There were things he couldn't do that Jack could. Here, now, on this island, with all the bullshit of civilization, the rules that held him back, stripped away, Roger made his first real gesture of loyalty, his commitment to serve.

So long as Jack gave him what he asked for, whenever he asked for it, Roger would be as the SS were- obedient unto death.

The boys all grew quiet as Roger knelt and bowed his head before Jack, offering up the spear with the bloodied end.

Jack took the weapon and said, "Roger, Captain of the Hunters, rise."

Roger stood and Jack wiped some of the blood off the spear's sharp end. He reached out and slowly, carefully, drew a vertical streak of crimson down each of Roger's cheeks. Then he handed the spear back. "This is yours, the Spear of the First Kill. Make sure this is not its last."

"I will, Chief," Roger said, bowing his head again as he accepted the weapon.

The other Hunters looked on, awed into silence. The little ceremony had been improvised, happened out of nowhere, but it was serious all the same. They all felt it. Jack and Roger tied the pig's legs to Jack's spear, hefted it, and started the long walk back to camp. The other hunters walked with them, and Roger could tell they were impressed. And that title, Chieftain, or just Chief- it fit Jack well. Roger decided he'd hold onto that. "Boss" had worked well in the past, but here on the island, with the boys regressing to basic tribal instincts and behavior with surprising speed, "Chief" definitely seemed more appropriate. Walking ahead of Roger, Jack absolutely radiated confidence, and Roger knew he did as well. The Hunters had made their first kill. From here, things were only going to get better.

 **XX**

Ralph had to admit, the Hunters made quite a sight when they came back.

Carrying a pig tied to one of their spears, they marched into the cove like a conquering army, and Jack loudly announced that they'd killed a pig and everyone would get a share. He and Roger got to work skinning and carving the pig up, and a very diligent, helpful Pablo made sure a fire was built and started on the beach in short order.

The boys were getting along okay on fruits and nuts and that sort of thing, but the fact was they needed something more solid. The Builders and Firewatchers got fuel stacked for the fire and even worked with the Hunters to build a spit to roast the pig's meat on. Roger methodically carved the pig right down to the bone; he wasn't the slightest bit squeamish, it seemed like. The little ones watched excitedly, chattering to each other. As the smell of cooking meat filled the air, Ralph's stomach growled. He closed his eyes for a moment, reminded of cookouts back home, back in the world that mankind had mastered. It was heavenly.

The Hunters were all in a visibly excellent mood, enough so that none of them bothered Piggy, who was being very businesslike about directing the Builders. Tony was still casting glances at the Hunters, seeming to regret winding up outside of their unit, but he continued to work with Piggy without any real complaints.

Yet again, Ralph thanked himself for reorganizing the cadets like this. It had worked out beautifully, even with the missed rescue opportunity today. Improvements had been made to the shelters, which were being made sturdier in case of a storm, which in this humid ocean climate was entirely possible.

Ralph wondered how it was that such a large, geographically varied island had never been settled by anyone. There was plenty of room for a small tribal civilization to grow here, and there very probably was enough food to be had from the plants and from fishing and hunting. It was just interesting that no humans seemed to have ever come here until now. Or if they had, none had stayed.

It was interesting- the Hunters had been out all day, traveling miles to hunt for and bring back a pig. If Jack was telling it right, they had basically never stopped until the hunt was successful, which meant they'd been on their feet since the morning. And yet Jack and Roger were doing pushups, counting to a hundred at a time. Rapper and Andy were doing sprints on the beach. Patterson had been swimming around for the past half hour, Eric had beaten Tony in four straight footraces along the beach, Will and Steve were doing swim races and trying to get Patterson to join them, and Simon had been doing pushups, situps, and the "side straddle hop", or jumping jacks, almost without any break at all. That last one surprised Ralph more than any of the others; Simon had never shown this kind of interest in physical fitness before.

Every one of the boys who'd signed on with the Hunters was just brimming with energy. A whole day of work hadn't tired them out at all, it seemed like. That wasn't the case with the Firewatchers, or with the Builders, both of whom were understandably weary after a long day. The Hunters were the only ones still staying this active, this late in the day. It was strange. Not bad, just strange.

Ralph politely declined when offered the first slab of meat, insisting that he would wait. He believed leaders were supposed to eat last. Jack and Roger set a different example, eating first. Some of the Hunters were calling Jack "Chief," and eating first was apparently a privilege reserved for him.

When he got his piece, Ralph joined some of the boys, sitting among them as they talked excitedly, visibly happier and healthier with the good food they were having. Jack sat surrounded by his Hunters, aloof and superior to everyone else. He was telling some of the crudest, most sexist tales and jokes Ralph had ever heard, not caring whether the younger boys were listening or not. Several of them were doing just that, pretending they were doing no such thing.

It was tempting to tell Jack to stop it, to knock it off. Ralph was the one in charge of everybody and he didn't want these younger boys going home with even some of Jack's dirty mind and dirtier mouth. But- Jack and his best friend Roger had made sure everyone was well fed today. The boys were all going to feel indebted to him, and Ralph had to admit, he kind of felt that way, too. Everybody swore at military school, it seemed like, no matter how hard you tried to clean that up.

Maybe it was better just to let it go for now. Jack had done okay for today, even if he had his flaws. Ralph knew he'd need to let some things go to keep everyone working together. He would have to talk to Jack more seriously about not assaulting Pablo or anyone else the next time something went wrong; that wasn't leadership and Jack needed to understand that.

But for now, Ralph could let it go. One thing, and one day, at a time.

 **XX**

Eric didn't understand why his brother was being such a dork.

Seriously, he'd gotten mad about some stupid thing and decided it was Eric's fault, and then he went and made Eric mad. So Eric joined the Hunters and Sam went with the Builders, and instead of apologizing for being wrong and joining the Hunters alongside his twin within a few hours like Eric had anticipated, Sam was sticking with it, widening the divide between the two.

Sam had not come up for his share of meat, or for seconds thirty minutes later. He just stayed off to the side, huffing and staring anywhere but at Eric- except Eric caught him glaring once or twice. Sam was being dumb and was kind of being a dork, too. It was so obvious but he apparently didn't think so. Eric knew he was. He was the one that was right most of the time, and Sam was the one that was right some of the time. Didn't Sam see what fun being a Hunter was, how awesome it was? Why didn't he want some of the meat from the pig Roger had killed?

Eric ate his share and got seconds and enjoyed it immensely. Juicy and so hot he almost dropped it, the meat was the best thing the lean boy had ever tasted. He kept glancing at Sam, who wouldn't look at him and had just shaken his head when Piggy offered him some of his share of the meat. Finally, Eric decided that he needed to get his dork twin brother to eat some damn food, and he got two thick, hot slices from what was left after asking Roger. He carried them over to where Sam sat in the sand, standing over his twin. Sam saw him coming and turned his head away.

"I got you some food."

"Don't want it."

"You need to eat."

"I had some fruit earlier."

"You need meat."

"I think you should have it, big Hunter. I don't need charity."

"Come on, dork, eat the fucking food!"

That outburst visibly shocked the little ones nearby, and Sam even looked up, startled. Eric knew he looked startled, too; he had gotten really angry, really fast, and he hadn't meant to. Where had that come from? He hadn't meant to say it like that.

"I just want to make sure you're all right," Eric said defensively, softening his tone.

Sam glared at him and then turned his head away. Eric's temper flared up again, but he fought it down and just put the meat down on a nearby log and walked away.

A few minutes later, while Eric was sitting near Jack and Roger and listening to them talk about girls, he looked anxiously over at where Sam was. He felt a rush of relief when he saw Sam grimly devouring the meat, not looking up, not even glancing at his twin. Sam was still mad at him for some reason, but at least he was eating. That made Eric feel better. It sure was awkward being mad at your brother, especially when he had your face.

 **XX**

At Ralph's request, Jack took a walk with him the morning of the fourth day, heading out on the beach as the sun began to blaze down on them. Jack was glad for the chance to work on his suntan, if nothing else. He knocked out one hundred pushups and just as many situps before leaving camp with Ralph. For some reason, he'd been feeling incredibly motivated to get to work and start really buffing himself up. He'd only just started, so there weren't a lot of visible results, but Jack knew he'd get there.

The blond's good mood was reflected as he spoke to Ralph while they walked.

"You don't have anything to worry about, you know. None of us do. We've got it made!"

"Do we, now?" Ralph asked, surprised but impressed at Jack's emphatic tone.

"Oh, yeah." Jack waved a hand at the clear blue ocean, the white sand, the rich green vegetation and the blue sky, streaked with clouds of white. "We've got it made! No parents, no Bunker Hill Military Academy, no girls-" Jack broke off at that last one, giving a shrug. "Okay, it would be better if we had them here. I'd like to get some now and then."

Ralph laughed. "Like you ever got any."

Jack looked back at the other boy. "I did."

Ralph tried to laugh again, but he blushed and looked away as he realized Jack wasn't kidding. He coughed and kicked at some sand. It brought immense pride to Jack to stare the colonel down. In the end, even Ralph was jealous of Jack in his own way. But could he really be faulted for that? Everyone was jealous of the blond teenager. Being jealous of Jack Merridew was like wanting air to breathe. It made perfect sense.

"So," Ralph said after a minute, clearing his throat, "could you rein Roger in a little bit?"

Jack chuckled. "What?"

"Roger. He's hard on some of the other boys, but he listens to you. Could you talk to him? Mikey's told me Roger's been making him ask permission to use the bathroom. We don't need that while we're keeping everyone together."

Jack wanted to laugh that off, but it made him think. Did Roger really listen to him? The taller, stronger boy had always backed Jack up, had always called him "boss", now "chief"… but sometimes he'd ask for something in return, and while he didn't ask often, it was obvious he didn't ever want to hear "no" in answer to one of his requests. As supremely confident as he was, Jack couldn't quite ignore the little nagging sense he had that maybe Roger wasn't just in this to see Jack succeed. He had his own goals too, things he wanted for himself. And in his own way, he looked to Jack for loyalty too. Roger expected Jack to cover for him, to stand by him, to use his smooth speaking abilities to help Roger stay out of trouble and continue to do what he wanted to. Roger would not stand for it for very long if Jack started to show signs of questioning Roger or hinted at denying him something he wanted or aimed to do.

If that smoking hot Arianna Lovejoy, Lieutenant Colonel Lovejoy's daughter, had wound up on the island with them, for instance, Roger would have demanded to have her. Jack would have been allowed to have her first and most often, but Roger would have wanted his turns. And it wouldn't have been done the way Jack would've gotten it from her- with charm and style. Roger respected and understood nothing but force. He spoke simply, but his words carried weight- you could never doubt that he meant what he said. Jack would have charmed Arianna into letting him fuck her if they'd both wound up on this island- there was no doubt of that. But Roger- he would've just raped her.

A small shiver ran down Jack's spine as he realized he would have let Roger do it.

And that Jack would have wound up raping Arianna himself. The daughter of Bunker Hill's dean would have inevitably seen through Jack's charming façade as she realized Jack was permitting Roger to force himself on her. She would've become less cooperative, less receptive to Jack's insatiable lusts. Jack couldn't have tolerated refusal.

Roger- he was a good friend. He didn't ask for much. Jack owed him enough that lying for him and looking the other way when he did cruel things was the least the blond could do. What Ralph was asking for was impossible. Jack couldn't turn on his friend.

But all Jack said was, "I'll try to talk to him."

Ralph nodded, looking satisfied. Jack wanted to laugh. Even in seeming to agree, the blond had left himself an out. He'd said he would talk to Roger- not that he would get him to do anything different. Hell, he hadn't even said what he'd talk to Roger about.

 **XX**

The two leaders had just returned to the cove when Roger came stalking towards them, dragging Larry by one arm. The smaller boy was whining and protesting, but Roger was having none of it. The rest of the Hunters were gathered around, hurrying along as Roger headed up to Jack and Ralph.

"Please- ow!- I'm serious!" Larry exclaimed. "I'm not lying, sir! I mean it!"

"Shut up," Roger ordered him. Larry continued stumbling along, trying to keep up with Roger's quick strides.

"What's going on?" Ralph and Jack asked simultaneously.

"This kid," Roger said as he threw Larry to the sand, "wandered off while we were on a hunt. He came back yelling about a monster and scared off the pig I was trying to sneak up on.

Anger flared within Jack, and he barely restrained himself from kicking Larry as he lay there on the sand. "I'm not happy, Larry," Jack said in a tense voice.

"Maybe there's some explanation," Ralph said, and he reached down and pulled Larry to his feet. All the boys currently in the cove were gathered around, and Larry glanced uneasily at his audience. "How about it, Larry?" Ralph asked. "What happened?"

"I really did see a monster! It was in this cave!"

Jack shook his head in disgust. "What? You scared off a fucking pig for some dumb shit about a monster, Larry? Are we gonna have to send you back to kindergarten?"

"I'm serious!"

Turning sarcastic, Jack responded, "Okay, what kind of monster? Did it have fur and poison fangs, or long, slimy tentacles?

"It growled, and it came at me, and its mouth, it was wet!"

"Yeah, he came at you," Roger said, sniggering. "All over your face, I bet."

"Lookit him, how sweaty he is, I bet he liked it!" Tony laughed, and a lot of the boys cracked up.

"Okay, okay! Quiet!" Ralph called out. "Now that's enough." He looked at Jack. "I want you to take Larry back to wherever he found this and check it out."

A collective groan went up from the annoyed, exasperated Hunters.

"Please, are you serious?"

"Come on, Ralph!"

"No way am I going on some Easter egg hunt for a monster!"

"I mean it!" Ralph barked. "Now, look, Larry's one of you, he's a Hunter! You worked with him fine up till now; you should at least give him a chance to prove what he's saying."

Jack kept silent through all this, thinking. He was paying attention to body language, eye movements. The boys were getting anxious about this, even if they pretended they weren't. They were starting to believe it. They were getting concerned that maybe there was a monster. None of them were actually admitting it, especially not the Hunters, but the signs were there.

And then there was Ralph, who wanted this done and was still officially in charge of everybody. Jack was still biding his time, going along with things for now. If he absolutely refused, Ralph might force the issue, and Jack wasn't planning for any big showdowns today.

Besides, the way this was getting interest from the camp as a whole, if Jack did go and investigate this "monster", it might work out well for him. If he checked it out and it was nothing, then Larry would get his ass kicked for lying and wasting everybody's time.

If it was something, though… that might make Jack a hero. Even Ralph would be impressed, and Piggy would have to shut his face and admit Jack was awesome. Roger would get some of the glory too, of course. The XO, the Right Arm, he'd get his share.

Roger's eyes met Jack's, and it dawned on Jack then that they were thinking the same thing. He could tell. Roger had noticed the same things, come to the same conclusion.

"Hunters, on me," Jack barked out, taking up his spear from where it lay against the shelter reserved for the top three cadets. "We're going. Larry, you're on point."

"It was in a cave," Larry said.

"It was in a cave, what?" Jack asked tersely.

"It was in a cave, sir."

"Okay," Jack said. "Let's go, Hunters. Let's go find this monster."

 **XX**

It was miles away, well into the rugged, hilly terrain that characterized the inner areas of the island. Jack might have struggled with a trip like this once, but not now. And here, on this island, closer than he'd ever been to mankind's primitive origins and instincts, Jack seemed to feel strengthened, more alive. He not only endured the challenge of the heat and humidity and the terrain, but actually reveled in it. Simon, bearing the same war paint the others had started to adopt, was holding up just fine, too; as a matter of fact, all of them were.

Stopping to snack on some red berries they spotted, the Hunters wasted a few minutes relieving themselves in the form of pissing contests. Jack's aim was the best, but Roger pissed the farthest. Larry got teased mercilessly when he couldn't come up with anything; Roger was sure that it was because the blond boy had pissed himself running from the monster.

Ten minutes later, an increasingly-steep rock wall came into view. Jack peered up at it, the base of one of this island's towering mountain peaks. He wished he'd fucking paid attention in geology class, or geography, or whatever it was. If he had he might know how the hell some island in the middle of the Pacific had goddamn mountains on it.

"There," Larry said, pointing.

Jack followed Larry's arm, and spotted the darkened entrance to the cave.

The Hunters were all silent. None of them even wanted to breathe too loud.

From inside the cave, something grunted and groaned. The acoustics of the cave made it sound terrifying. How big was that cave? How big was the thing that was in it?

But all the same, Jack found himself standing up from a crouch, moving forward. Roger followed him instantly; he didn't even have to give a spoken order.

As Jack's feet left the soil and vegetation and reached the stone, he turned back to the others. "Stay there. Yell if you see anything." Then he turned back to Roger. "Okay, now we go find the monster." He was nervous for some reason. Why the hell was he nervous?

Roger just looked back steadily. "It better be ready to fuck with both of us, Chief."

Jack nodded, encouraged by Roger's calm, steely nerves. "Yeah. Yeah, it better be."

He turned and headed up toward the mouth of the cave. Grunts, moans and growls continued to come from inside. At the entrance, Jack paused, hesitated. Should he actually do this? Part of him had heard enough and did not want to see more. Part of him wanted to leave.

But that was a small part of him. Jack, who had always swaggered around like he had a twelve-inch dick, really did feel like it now. That incredible confidence he'd had with him almost since they'd landed on this island was boosting him now, encouraging him just like Roger had done. It told him, "Go ahead". It reminded Jack of his own belief that he need fear no evil, for he was the meanest motherfucker in the valley.

Jack moved forward into the cave, spear up and ready. Roger followed him, wielding his own weapon, poised and alert. Whatever was in there, if it wasn't ready for a hell of a fight, it was in trouble.

The grunts and groans intensified, and Jack could hear the boys behind him, down from the entrance of the cave, making uneasy sounds. Simon told them to stay put, then to shut up. Jack, had he not been so tense, would have laughed. He'd never heard Simon say "Shut up" before.

The cave was incredibly dark; the light didn't seem to carry very far in. It was damp, moist. Jack's heart skipped a beat as he turned and saw himself staring at a group of bats, and he swore as they sprang out from where they hung upside down and flew out of the cave in a flurry of black wings. Jack managed to stay calm and returned to moving slowly into the cave. It was roomy enough that, had this been closer to the beach where they'd landed, it might have made an ideal choice for a shelter. At the very least, it would have been the one used by Jack, Roger and Ralph, the oldest and highest-ranking. If a hurricane or a tsunami hit the island or something, this would be a good emergency shelter. Jack felt further encouraged to take on whatever was in here. If he did, he'd claim a useful area for the tribe. He'd be the one who found a place where they could ride out even the worst weather as they stayed here.

Something was down there on the floor, moving. It clumsily stood to its feet, and Jack threw down his spear. He didn't need that. He'd kick the shit out of this thing with his bare hands. Jack had so much adrenaline coursing through him right now, he felt like he could stop a train with his hands. Some beast stood no chance at all, not against Jack.

With a growl, amplified by the cave, Jack lunged forward and tackled the monster. He wrestled fiercely with it, battling the mad creature with all his strength. It kicked and fought and roared, but Jack let out a roar of his own and forced it down. Roger came up and judiciously smacked it with his spear, and it stopped moving.

"It's Captain Benson," Roger said quietly. "This is where he went to."

Jack glanced up at Roger, then looked down at the 'monster'. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cave, the blond teenager saw it was indeed a sickly, unshaven Captain Benson, band instructor at Bunker Hill Military Academy. Jesus Christ, what a disappointment. Jack had been ready to take on a goddamned grizzly bear and he got a crazed, ill teacher instead. What a fuckup.

"Okay, let's get him out of here," Jack grunted. He seized hold of the man under his arms and hauled him up, then dragged him out of the cave. He threw Benson down at the entrance so he rolled down the slope and landed at the other Hunters' feet. They stared up at him and Roger with something very much like awe.

"There, Larry," Jack called out. "There's your fuckin' monster."

The other Hunters looked up at Jack and Roger, then down at Benson, absolutely speechless.

 **XX**

They carried him back to camp with two boys holding his arms, two his feet. He coughed and groaned, but Jack didn't even care. He marched at the head of the procession like a returning conqueror, and he and Roger got the Hunters doing some of their chants and shouts as they went. On the way out, they'd needed to be as quiet as possible. On the way back, it was time to be louder than Hell. Larry was so fired up he didn't even seem to care that he'd been wrong about the beast, and the other Hunters shared his sense of excitement. They'd met their first real enemy on this island and defeated it. The opponent had been false, a threat only in their minds, but the victory was real. They had done this. They had won. The Hunters had been given a mission to protect the rest of the camp, and they'd carried it out. No one would be able to dispute their effectiveness after this and the successful hunt. Of all the groups Ralph had organized them into, the Hunters were the best. The most powerful. The greatest.

When they got back to the cove, the boys there just couldn't believe it. The other Hunters amazed them with tales of the fight and the noise it had involved, the exciting battle between Jack and Roger and the 'monster'. They'd defeated this imagined enemy, and rescued Captain Benson at the same time. It was a goddamned PR coup.

"It was him? That's where he went?" Ralph asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Jack answered, nodding. Simon led Rapper, Andy, and Larry to put Captain Benson gently down at the base of the tree he'd been resting under before. Jack glanced that way, then added, "He doesn't look so good, though." He raised his voice. "Simon! How's Benson?"

"Not great," Simon answered, looking down at the disheveled school official. "I'm amazed he's still with us. I don't think he's eaten the whole time he's gone. No food or water. I'm gonna try getting him to eat and drink, but… talking to him doesn't do any good. He's really out of it."

Simon's calm, compassionate diagnosis contrasted with the deadly-looking spear he had close by, and the red-and-black war paint he wore on both cheeks. He was visibly fitting in better and better with the Hunters now, and yet he seemed very much the same person. Jack could see Ralph had noticed this too, and that he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

Jack, personally, was fine with Simon's new approach, regardless of why he was doing it. He'd proved an observant and capable Hunter already, and Jack liked his newfound interest in physical fitness.

"I know he'll get the best we can give with you watching him," Ralph said, trying to sound encouraging. "

"Sure," Simon shrugged. "But you should really be thanking Jack. He's the one who brought him back to us."

 **XX**

Jack sat "Indian style" in front of the fire the Firewatchers built on the beach at the cove that evening. The smoked leftovers of the first pig the Hunters had killed, plus the various fruits they had gathered, made for a pretty good meal. Tony had found several bunches of bananas while gathering materials on Piggy's orders today, so there were plenty of those to go around, too.

Everyone wanted to talk to Jack tonight, it seemed like. He was asked to reenact the advance on the cave and the way he'd thrown down his spear and taken on the "monster" with his own hands, then asked to reenact it again. There wasn't a boy present who wasn't visibly impressed with what Jack had done. Roger, despite sitting close by, didn't get much of the credit; it was Jack that they all talked about. But as usual, Roger did not really seem to care. He just sat there and ate his food, listened and watched as everyone else talked. Jack could tell Roger was somewhat disappointed; he'd probably hoped they'd kill Benson instead.

A good hunt was what Roger needed. If they went out and gave Roger another pig to kill tomorrow, he'd be satisfied. Jack realized after a while that the reason he recognized this was because he felt that way himself. He should have killed Benson and been able to boast that he killed "the Monster" to everyone. It was so very ironic that Jack, the one who'd argued against putting too much effort and too many resources into Benson, had played the key role in saving him. One moment of putting down his spear and he'd kept the man alive. Oh, well. He got to have both sides of it today; savior of the ailing captain and conqueror of the monster and its cave.

That was all right with him.

Jack delighted in retelling the story of what he'd done, as well as listening to the other Hunters talking about the noises coming out of the cave as Jack had gone in there and charged the monster bare-handed. They were absolutely amazed Jack had come out of it alive; there was no disappointment on their end. Rapper, Larry, Andy, even Simon- they all thought it was the greatest thing they'd seen someone do in years. Maybe in their whole lives.

What seemed to matter was not that the monster had not been real, but that it had been believed to be real at the time. When Jack had gone in that cave, there had been a monster in there as far as anyone was concerned. He'd headed in there and taken it down without any hesitation, they said. He'd even put down his weapon to give the monster a chance- that was a theory Eric and Rapper were especially in favor of. But against Jack, no monster, real or imagined, stood any chance at all. That was something all the Hunters agreed on, and no Builder or Firewatcher argued it; not tonight, when Jack was everybody's hero.

Well, almost everybody. Piggy didn't comment much on the day's big event or the camp's new celebrity; obviously he still didn't like Jack but realized he could also see that he was outnumbered. Jack was surprised at how much respect this whole thing had gained him. He'd seen it as a chance to look good, but even Ralph was visibly impressed now.

Ralph came over partway through the last meal of the day and sat down beside Jack, on his left while Roger sat on the right.

"Jack, I gotta hand it to you," Ralph said, "you really came through." He said it with plain admiration and respect, and like everyone else, he was giving Jack his full attention.

This was how Jack wanted things to be, all the time. Everyone wanting to talk to him, to talk about him, wanting to be more like him, and his few stubborn enemies, like Piggy, sidelined and ignored.

"I was glad to help," Jack said, shrugging. "Now we know there's no monster in that cave and we got Captain Benson back. It worked out great for us."

"I don't think we could've held this together without organizing the three groups- or without you, Jack."

"Aw, you're just trying to butter me up," Jack said, affecting embarrassment.

"No, really. I mean it."

Jack glanced at Ralph, and sure enough, the other teen looked like he was serious. "Well, we'll just keep things going together, won't we, Colonel?" Jack asked, flashing a grin at Ralph.

"I guess we will," Ralph replied, smiling back.

 _What the hell am I doing_? Jack wondered. _Am I actually working with this fucking Boy Scout_? Well, right now, everyone was on Jack's side. Even Ralph. Under those circumstances, Jack realized, he could work with anybody.

Feeling proud and triumphant, Jack stayed up late that evening, telling and retelling stories to any boys who wanted to listen- and quite a few did. He could see it in their eyes, the way they looked at and talked to him, that they wanted to be like Jack. He'd done something extremely brave in their eyes, something worthy of a great deal of respect. Everything was going Jack's way right now. If it kept on like this, maybe being stranded on this island, even for a long while, wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

 **A/N: 4-23-2017. Chapter 3 is done. My thanks to AM83220 for his excellent narratives, providing me with the general structure and plot to write a chapter off of. And my thanks to all past reviewers of the story.**

 **Jack thinks at one point about how he has long thought himself the "meanest motherfucker in the valley". That refers to a modified version of a passage from Psalm 23:4, the modified version being "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for I am the baddest motherfucker in the valley." Baddest, meanest, whichever. This modified Bible quote apparently became popular among American troops deployed to South Vietnam during the Vietnam War, and was even attributed retroactively- and falsely- to General George S. Patton, Jr. of World War II fame. Patton wasn't known to talk like that, as much as he swore, and his son, George S. Patton, IV, never said anything like that. But Jack most certainly would, and he would definitely agree with the high opinion of oneself that the quote implies.**

 **Captain Benson does not actually work for the military boarding school that the boys attend- not in canon in the 1990 movie, that is. His uniform is actually identical to the ones you see airline pilots wearing, and it is customary for the pilot in command of a flight to be addressed and referred to as "Captain". They have to be qualified for it just as ship captains do. Anyway, reason I have Benson as a school staff member instead of a pilot is partly because CocoSushi wrote him that way in their story "Dirty Game", but also because it never was established who was supervising these boys- they would not have been on a flight far from school by themselves. I could have just had it where one pilot made it out and the school staff member didn't, but I liked doing it this way.**

 **Roger being thought of or referred to as "The Right Arm" to Jack is a reference to "The Maze Runner" series by James Dashner.**

 **In a high-definition DVD of the 1990 movie, you can actually see what is on the patch on the left shoulder of the boys' uniform blouses/jackets. It has two crossed sabers or swords and "Grove U.S.M.A." I don't know what that is supposed to mean, considering "USMA" implies "United States Military Academy". So, unable to use the information from the patch used in the movie, I just went to another movie where Valley Forge Military Academy uniforms are used, "Taps", and borrowed the fictional name used for the school in that film.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Simon woke up just before sunrise, to the sound of the waves advancing and receding in the cove. He was in his own crude shelter- well, his, and the one the Builders had made for Captain Benson. The disoriented, semi-conscious school official had been resting quietly during the night, thank God, and Simon had even managed to get him to drink the fresh water he'd brought to Benson last night.

The sandy-blond-haired youth was lying at the entrance to the shelter, while Benson was further inside. He'd decided on that yesterday, figuring that if he slept at the entrance, Benson, who could not so much walk as barely stumble, would be unable to get by without waking him up.

Simon's underwear was tighter-fitting than it normally was; he noticed that as he woke up. It was happening again, that thing that occurred when you became a teenager. "Boner", Jack and his buddies called it. Simon had experienced that a couple times recently but had tried to ignore it so far, unsure what to do about it. Wasn't like it felt bad, though. It felt good. No way could he do anything about that right now. Simon had been dreaming about girls, and some interesting things had been getting ready to happen when he woke up. Simon felt vaguely disappointed.

Sitting up was easy, but sitting in place was difficult. Simon assumed the perfect "front leaning rest" position and knocked out a hundred pushups while everyone else was still asleep. The exertion pleased him, made it feel like he was doing what his body wanted, but this wasn't enough. He needed to do more. Simon couldn't leave, though, and to really be paying attention, he couldn't watch Captain Benson while giving himself a workout. So Simon sat up and drew his knees up and waited.

Jack was up first, accompanied as usual by Roger. They started to get the other Hunters up. Those boys, well aware of the need to avoid displeasing either of those two, wasted no time getting moving.

The lanky blond didn't look so lean now, Simon noticed. Jack had put on some weight, and none if it was fat. As the leader of the Hunters approached Simon, spear in hand, he smiled in greeting. "What's up, Simon?" he asked. "Ready to go kill something?"

"I can't go," Simon said uneasily, looking up at Jack. "I have to stay here."

"What?" Jack responded, visibly surprised. "Why not?"

"Ralph wants me to watch over Captain Benson."

The pale blond- though he was swiftly working on quite a handsome tan- gaped at Simon. "Seriously?"

Simon nodded.

Jack shook his head in disbelief, looking away. "What the fuck," the sixteen-year-old muttered to himself.

"Hey Jack," Roger called, gathering the rest of the Hunters near him. "We ready to go or what?"

"Yeah, gimme a minute," Jack called carelessly, only turning his head for a moment. He looked down at Simon. "You've been really manning up lately. You know that? I can think of a couple girls who'd love to get it from you right now. Look at you. You're getting buff as hell. You shouldn't sit here watching Benson. Come with us and hunt, Simon."

"I can't," Simon said. "I need to stay here."

Jack looked at him for a few moments, seeing that the younger boy was serious. Reluctant but serious.

"All right," Jack said. "Rejoin us ASAP, cadet. I'd rather have you with us than sitting around in this camp." He headed off and joined the rest of his Hunters, and the group went on into the wilderness without Simon.

Jack was a gifted speaker, even if he wasn't a careful one like Simon or an intellectual one like Ralph. His little speech left Simon feeling both surprised and impressed. You didn't quite expect Jack, a boy who sneered at book-reading and laughed at intellectuals, to have such insights. But he did anyway, proving he was smarter and more capable than some took him for. Jack might have spurned rational, detailed thought- his domain was the emotions- but there, he was a master.

Bully. Cadet officer. Braggart. Idol of dozens of other boys. A short-tempered, mean-spirited, handsome boy who never let anyone or anything get in his way. And yet he was charming, erudite, and intelligent- even if in a distinctly different way from Simon, Piggy and Ralph. When he talked, the other boys all listened- and it had been that way well before the island. When you had Jack's attention, you felt that he was really listening to you, that your opinions mattered, that you were someone important if you agreed with him. All this Simon had observed over the last two years at Bunker Hill from a distance, and here, up close on the island, over a few days. Simon had begun to wonder if people like Jack Merridew didn't carry around their own reality-warping bubbles, and all who fell in were transported to another dimension where the cruel and terrible things they did and said suddenly made sense.

At least, that was how it seemed to Simon.

 **XX**

The minutes dragged by. Simon found his mind drifting. He thought about getting one of those pretty brunettes from the nearby girls' school over for a visit, charming her up, and just humping her on his bed until he was grunting and sweating like an animal. And speaking of animals, Simon wanted to go hunt so bad. Fucking and killing were two of the most intense acts that existed, and Simon wanted to do both. He really, really wanted to.

Simon hit it for more pushups, situps, side straddle hops. He worked himself up to a decent sweat, but Captain Benson started mumbling about water, and Simon had to go bring him some more in a couple of the coconut halves he'd scavenged among the debris drifted in on the beach. Then, once the Captain's thirst subsided, it was back to sitting there while he rested. Simon wanted to fuck. He wanted to jerk off. He wanted to kill a pig. He wanted to go do pushups until sweat rained down his face, but most of all, he wanted to end this fucking waiting.

As he sat there, barely noticing that the arms wrapped around his knees were visibly more muscular than ever, Simon realized that he was slowly going insane. Neither his body nor his mind could take what he was trying to do to it. This was not a question of what he wanted to do. It was a question of not snapping and doing God only knew what to one of the kids at this cove with his spear.

He wanted to talk to Ralph about it, but Ralph had spent the night up on the hill with Pablo and some of the other Firewatchers, so he wasn't around the cove at the moment.

Simon turned to Tex, one of the little ones on the Builders. The boy was standing nearby, probably watching Simon or Captain Benson, or both. Whatever Piggy had told him to do, Tex had surely forgotten about it for now. The little ones tended to forget organized tasks. They were best at being helpers, just assisting with whatever it was you were doing. Gophers, fetch and carry.

"Go get Ralph and tell him Simon wants to talk to him," Simon instructed. "Run up to the fire and tell him that."

"Do I have to?" Tex whined, slouching his shoulders and looking unhappy at the idea of suddenly leaving the cove for such a long trip.

"Yes, you do! Now!" Simon snapped at him, visibly irritated. It had taken an effort not to start shouting, and he knew he was going to if Tex didn't get moving.

That wasn't a problem, though. Tex's eyes widened as Simon barked at him, and he sprinted off for the hill as he was told.

 **XX**

Things were going all right, Ralph supposed. His decision to make ad hoc units out of the 23 other boys here on the island with him had helped keep them united even as their uniforms fell apart around them. They were all down to wearing their underwear now, the one and only pair they had. You could wash it in the clear pond, sort of wring it out, but with no detergent that only did so much. Keeping these cadets clean a thousand miles from civilization was just one of the concerns weighing on Ralph's mind. He was trying to do too much, and he knew it, but he was the highest-ranking and most able administrator here. He was one of three cadet officers but the only one interested in doing much commanding. Well… Jack wanted to be in charge of the whole show. He wasn't good at hiding that. But he had become more content to let it be since he'd become lead of the Hunters, and with his recent PR coup in bringing back Benson, Jack was feeling good about his role. But- he wasn't really trying that hard to help Ralph with the planning and logistics and all that. That stuff didn't interest Jack.

Ralph had stayed up most of last night to make sure the fire stayed lit. It didn't go out, and Pablo diligently worked all the time to guarantee plenty of dry wood was on hand for it. He hadn't mentioned Ralph yelling at him, or Jack yelling at him, or Jack knocking him down and starting to kick the shit out of him. But the lesson had sunk deep. Pablo seemed like he had little else on his mind now but doing his job. Ralph regretted it had taken that much to make him so duty-minded, but… it was hard to reprimand Jack for doing it. At the time, Ralph had been pretty damn angry himself.

The fifteen-year-old was tired. He hadn't slept much yesterday and it seemed like whenever he tried to catch a little shut-eye during the day, someone came running up with a new problem. All day long Ralph was putting out fires, in constant motion, barely able to find time to take a crap or maybe even jerk off in peace. Did any of these guys even think he did that stuff? Or was the great Colonel some special being who didn't have any human needs? Ralph couldn't decide if that was a gift or curse, being thought of like that…

"Ralph! Ralph!" Tex called, running up the hill. The little kid was sweaty and tired, but he didn't slow down until he reached Ralph. "Simon needs you back at the camp."

Oh, man. Benson had probably taken a turn for the worse.

"On my way," Ralph said, jumping up and sprinting down the hill, heading for the cove. Tex sat down near the fire, panting.

 **XX**

When Ralph checked in on Benson and found the captain still alive and not looking any worse than this morning, he looked at Simon with curiosity.

"Do you think you can watch over him?" Simon asked anxiously. He was visibly antsy, ready to go.

"What's the matter? You know how to care for him better than any of us."

"I-" Simon broke off, hesitating. He brushed a tanned bicep with one hand. "I don't know. I just- I can show you everything you'd need to know how to do. I know you can do as good a job with it as I can."

"You don't need to use the bathroom or something, do you?" Ralph asked, managing not to ask it as a joke.

"No," Simon answered, shaking his head. "Can you watch him, please? I'd like to rejoin Jack and the Hunters."

Simon looked conflicted about this, but he wasn't backing off from it, either. He plainly wanted to leave. So Ralph didn't press him on it. He watched and listened attentively for several minutes as Simon explained how to best get Captain Benson to drink the water you brought him, how to interpret some of the gestures and muttered phrases he did as he indicated a need or want in his semi-conscious state. Simon stressed the need to be attentive, to make sure to bring him water whenever he asked for it, but a minimum number of times a day whether he asked for it or not.

Then, the minute Ralph said he could handle it from here, Simon was gone, off like a shot into the jungle, following some internal compass to catch up with the rest of the Hunters. Ralph wasn't sure if Simon had noticed, but the younger boy was looking a great deal more athletic lately. Broader shoulders, more developed pectoral and abdominal muscles, and his biceps and triceps were definitely getting a lot of thorough use. What had gotten into him? Ralph wasn't sure what was going on with him. But then, he was never sure what was going on with Simon.

 **XX**

The Builders spent most of the day digging a twenty-foot-long, six-feet-deep trench, like they'd been asked to do. The job got done with bare hands and some improvised tools, and was slow and difficult. But by the time the sun started setting, they had taken care of it, and the boys had their designated bathroom area. Much better than just having everyone go wherever it occurred to them.

The Hunters came back with nothing, sweaty, tired and discouraged. Jack glowered at the ground as he walked into camp and mostly talked to Roger, his Right Arm. He didn't look happy and the little ones made sure to avoid the tall, lean boy with the war paint, well aware of Jack's temper.

Still, there was enough to eat and it was nice having a peaceful evening at the camp. Eric thought about it as he lowered his underwear to his ankles and squatted over the trench. The camp was going okay, and Eric was glad everyone was fine. Even Benson was kinda hanging in there. While Eric emptied his bladder, then his bowels, his penis twitched as it brushed against his leg, and he realized he kinda needed to take care of another need.

So once he pulled his underwear up, Eric acted real casual and wandered off further, way further, into the deepening dusk of the woods. Then, once he was completely alone, he dropped his underwear again, took hold of himself, and thought about beautiful naked girls. Eric's hand worked furiously, and when he came five minutes later, it was about the best feeling he'd ever had. He tucked himself back in his pants and headed back for camp.

Once there, Eric looked for Sam, the boy who didn't have his growing muscles, but did have his face. Relaxed now despite the day's fruitless hunt, Eric wanted to be friendly with his twin. So he went up and said hi to his brother.

"Go away," Sam said, turning his head so he didn't have to look at Eric. He stayed on the log where he sat, not getting up or inviting Eric to sit.

"Come on, I just wanted to say hello and all."

"Well, you did. So go."

"We should make things right. I want us to get along."

"Isn't that nice?"

"Come on. We can talk and figure something out or something. We should be friends."

"I said get lost already." Sam stood up and faced his twin, his face hard and unfriendly.

Eric's temper flared. "How about if I don't feel like going just yet? Dork?"

Sam hated being called that too. He shoved Eric hard, but the more muscular boy withstood the push easily. He shoved back, and Sam sat down with a grunt. He snarled and kicked at Eric, but the blow struck Eric's tensed abs like it would a rock. Sam cried out, but he punched as Eric got close to him, and spat in his face. All of a sudden Eric saw red. He started punching back, felt his fist sink into his twin's stomach, heard the air rush out of him. Sam fought and bucked and strained to get loose, but Eric was stronger and held him down as he beat him.

Boys around cried out; voices told him to stop. Eric didn't. He was too angry. He was furious and Sam was gonna pay. Then a pair of strong hands latched on and pulled him away. Eric spun, ready to fight this one, too, but it was Ralph. "Don't hit him anymore, Eric. That's enough."

Eric looked back, and when he did the fight left him and remorse flooded into its place. Sam was bleeding from the nose, and one eye looked like it was going to bruise terribly. He had managed to sit up on his side and was struggling to breathe, straining to recover from the heavy blow to his stomach.

"Oh, my God, Sam-" Eric blurted, and he tried to rush to his twin's side. But Sam's eyes, filled with fear and anger and pain, rolled toward him and he pushed Eric away with all the strength he had left.

"Get away from me!" Sam cried out. "Go! Leave me alone!"

"I'm sorry. Really, I'm so sorry. I want us to work things out, please."

Sam looked at him and said, "Leave me alone."

Eric didn't know what else to do. He'd tried talking and they'd wound up having a terrible fight. His temper had run away from him and he'd beaten Sam up. Eric was sorry for that and for upsetting Sam in the first place. Nothing had happened the way it was supposed to have happened. This whole attempt at apology had been a disaster.

So he did what Sam told him to. Eric got up and let some of the other boys look after his twin. He walked away and stared at the ocean until well after it got dark.

 **XX**

Two weeks passed, with the Hunters branching out to also work on spear-fishing. Simon impressed Jack, Roger, and the other Hunters by bringing up the need to do two things- avoid over-hunting the pigs on the island, and if possible, find some to catch and domesticate. When Jack said he wanted to go on being able to hunt them down and kill them than have them in camp to slaughter easily, Simon stunned everyone by saying instantly, "You'd be fucking crazy if you didn't."

The Builders continued to be the engineers around camp; at Piggy's direction, they planned and built a path through the trees to the pond fed by water running down off the mountains. It was mostly an effort of clearing the ground and lining it with rocks on either side, but the clearly-marked path could be found day or night and it resulted in far fewer boys getting lost on their way to the fresh water source. Tony continued to look like he wished he'd been a Hunter, but he stayed on as one of the foremost Builders under Piggy.

The Firewatchers kept the fire going day and night, getting assistance from the Hunters as the latter brought back armfuls of wood from some of their long-range reconnaissance patrols across the island. As many square miles as it consisted of, there was plenty of wood to burn, even without chopping down any trees. Pablo, leader of the Firewatchers, was rarely seen in camp anymore, spending nearly all of his time up on the hill. He also was almost never seen during the day, as he had switched over to a nocturnal schedule. Talking to him about it, Ralph eventually learned this was partly due to guilt Pablo felt over failing to get them rescued… but mostly to avoid Jack.

Captain Benson faded in and out of consciousness; when he was awake at all, he was usually delirious. He talked to Lieutenant Colonel Lovejoy, to Colonel Fosse, to Brigadier General Boone, and the band director, Major Kemper. When Ralph spoke to him, the band instructor either didn't respond, or responded as if he was talking to someone else. It had been like that since they'd landed on this island, and as far as any of the boys could tell, it was going to go on like that indefinitely.

 **XX**

Unknown to the boys, a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier strike group passed within fifty miles of the island one day, and having been alerted to the crash of the small airliner and the search for its occupants, the carrier sent one of its escorting guided missile destroyers to take a closer look at the island. The lookouts reported to Lieutenant Commander Danny Matthews, the officer of the deck and Tony's older brother, that there was no sign of human presence on the island, and that the smoke drifting up from the other side was almost certainly from the dormant volcano known to be among the island's imposing mountains.

It occurred to the surface warfare officer that his kid brother was supposed to be going on some flight across the Pacific, this big event that Bunker Hill Military Academy was sending a group of Band Company boys to. That flight would've also been on a small airliner… but right now, they were out at sea, and Danny couldn't afford to go getting worried about whether this plane had been his brother's. It probably wasn't, anyway. Tony's luck was better than that. Danny made a mental note to check about it with his parents when they got back to Pearl Harbor and he got some shore leave, or even liberty. Soon as he could, Danny would check, and he'd probably find out he'd been a fool to worry and Tony was fine and accounted for. But- it was always best to check.

Danny thought about sending the helicopter he had aboard out to check up close on the other side of the island, but decided against it. Chances were time and fuel would be wasted on a bullshit mission- and at any rate, a Marine helicopter had done a fly-by on that side not long ago. Ultimately it was reported to the strike group commander that there was no apparent human presence on the sizable island and that was that. The ships sailed on.

 **XX**

They'd done everything the way the grownups would've so far. And so far, it had worked. Piggy still detested Jack Merridew and his cold, unnerving friend Roger, but at least those two had been busy enough to stay clear of him. The boys working as Builders had ceased their early complaining and constant questioning of Piggy's ideas. After so many of them had been proven valid and correct, and many of his projects had been built and shown to be great additions to the camp, they worked under his orders more contentedly. Some of them clearly wished they could be more like the Hunters, especially Tony, but they at least weren't contemplating a damn mutiny anymore.

They had gotten so much done, and the overweight boy had involved himself in as much as he could do. He privately mourned the fact that he was still quite fat. While more than a few obese people insisted it was a glandular problem or condition that caused it, it really was true for Piggy. Nevertheless, he'd been hoping to lose weight here. Most of the boys had lost a few pounds; they were alive and generally healthy, but it was some lean living at the moment. Well, the Hunters, whom Piggy was watching as they spear-fished among the sea-washed boulders, had gained some weight. It sure wasn't fat in their case!

Red-haired Andy and dark-skinned Rapper had been merely average before, but they looked like they were prepping for varsity sports now. Eric was quite easy to tell apart from his brother at this point; he'd beaten Sam in that fight like it was nothing. Larry, Patterson and Steve all looked more muscular and formidable, like they'd been passionate athletes all their lives. Simon- peculiar, wandering Simon, who had never been interested in drill or sports and was an odd duck even with Piggy around- he looked like what he had never been, one of the boys. More than one kid couldn't seem to believe the shape Simon had abruptly begun whipping himself into. He looked like a lifelong football player now. At the moment, he was laughing with Jack and Roger about something. They'd really taken a liking to him since Simon had joined up and started really trying to be a part of what they were doing. Piggy had no idea what it was all about but Simon was generally still the same, polite and well-spoken. Even Piggy couldn't figure him out, but then, it seemed like no one could. It was nice to see Simon hadn't changed personally even if he was changing physically.

Jack and Roger hadn't changed either, Piggy was much less pleased to note. Unless you counted considerable increases in muscle, stamina and ego, they were just the same. Jack and Roger were visibly the strongest ones here; the other Hunters were developing a strong, athletic look, but Jack and Roger looked like teenage bodybuilders just starting to make some real progress. And there was no doubt they'd be making more.

The spear-fishing looked to be going quite well. Jack hollered at the other boys and they went after the fish with renewed vigor; probably a contest to see who could catch the most fish had been declared.

Jack Merridew's preening and fondness of his own looks had infected the rest of the Hunters, even Simon. They reminded Piggy of the peacocks he'd seen once at the zoo. Only difference was, instead of numerous bright, colorful feathers, it was tanned, defined muscles they were showing off. That bunch was strutting about camp- everywhere, actually- as if there was a whole crowd of girls to impress. It didn't even seem to matter that none were around; the Hunters felt the need to show off anyway.

 **XX**

Sam's rift with his twin brother Eric remained unhealed. He had a feeling both of them knew it had started over basically nothing, just a trivial argument that went too far. Now, though, they had additional arguments and that fight between them. Sam was jealous of Eric's newfound physical strength; he had expected Eric to include him if he suddenly took such a major interest in working out. Instead Eric had gone right ahead and left him out. The fight had embittered Sam further; they'd fought plenty of times before but never like that. Only that one had been for real.

At this point, what was Sam supposed to do? He was still angry and so was Eric, but both of them probably had a desire to mend things. Both twins were proud and touchy, perhaps driven to be in their relationship with each other after a lifetime of looking and talking exactly alike. At this point, apologizing was nearly impossible. Sam had realized Eric was sincere from when he'd first come over to talk that evening, but Sam's own pride had made him act angry and try to send Eric away. Then Eric had gotten mad faster than Sam had anticipated, and they'd had pretty much no choice but to exchange blows.

Sam had tried hanging out with Tony; they were both on the Builders, so it made it easy for them to talk. And for a week it looked like that was going to work out fine. But then Eric had figured out what was going on, and Tony had been forced to answer to a jealous Eric's fists when the latter caught him alone. Brassy-voiced Tony was talkative and insisted he didn't fear anybody, but he was a kid like anybody else. Once Eric, a boy much too strong now for Tony to stand up to in a fight, made it clear that spending time with Sam had painful consequences, Tony steered clear of Sam. Worse yet, Sam knew that even if he couldn't prove it, even if only Eric and Tony had actually seen it happen, the beating had been noticed by some of the other boys. They were eying Sam warily too- not because of anything Sam did, but because they were considering what might happen to them if Eric noticed they, too, were trying to take his place as Sam's best friend.

It was maddening. Sam was conflicted about the quarrel between them, but he was genuinely angry with Eric. It was unfair that his twin, in addition to shaming him with his swift and impressive muscular growth, was not even leaving him alone to have other friends on the island. Sam knew Eric was probably trying to force him to talk to Eric again. If Sam had no one else to really be friends with, he'd have no choice but to make up with his twin, right? Sam was sure that was the idea. But he wasn't going to be bullied like that, not by his own twin brother. Eric could go fuck himself, which, from some of the cruder conversations he'd been hearing among the Hunters, all of them had been quite happily doing lately.

 **XX**

Nobody had any idea what day of the week it was anymore, and even their grasp of the month was getting hazy. Those fixtures of civilization had little hold on the boys on the island. Here, there was nothing but time.

Captain Benson seemed like he'd go on in this weak, semi-conscious state forever. But one afternoon, while Ralph was sitting near him, he opened his eyes and asked what was going on.

"Sir?" Ralph asked, so stunned he wasn't sure how to even react.

The captain sat up on his elbows. "I was wondering what I've missed. How'd I get here?"

"It's a long story, sir," Ralph said. He noticed with rising hope that the man's eyes were clear and focused. He seemed sane and coherent for the first time since they'd landed on the island!

"I'd like to hear it," Benson said.

Ralph called for the others, hollering and waving at the entrance to the shelter. The other boys came running, bunching up and peering curiously at Ralph, and then at Captain Benson. The boys didn't much resemble cadets now. Their hair had grown past the strict Academy regulations, and they were all wearing only their underwear; some had fashioned loincloths out of leather the Hunters had made from the pigs they'd killed. They better resembled a group of tribals than marooned military school students.

"Looks like I've missed some things," Benson commented.

"Yes, sir," Ralph said. "We've been here a couple weeks now. After the plane went down, we got you and everyone else into these two rafts that came up and inflated. The plane sank and we never saw the pilots again. Everyone else made it. All of the cadets are here."

"What've you guys been doing? How'd you make it this long with nobody coming to get you?"

"Someone almost did," Ralph said, unable to keep some bitterness from his voice. "A Marine helicopter flew by, but the signal fire we'd set up had gone out. We've been keeping it going ever since, but they haven't been back. We organized ourselves into three units: Builders, Hunters, and Firewatchers. The Builders are like our engineers. They've gotten these shelters set up, built a latrine trench, a storage shed for food we find, and made a path from here to a fresh water pond we found. It's a big island. We're thinking ten miles from one end to the other. And there's nobody here except us, and a herd of wild pigs. Jack and the Hunters have been going after them and catching fish for us. After you got up and ran off one night, Jack and Roger went inside this cave and found you. We've been trying to feed you and bring you water."

"How is everyone?"

"Everyone's doing well, considering the circumstances. We'd all like to get rescued, but we've set things up where no one's starving and we have fresh water to drink. If it takes a while for someone to find us, we can stick it out until they do. Jack, Roger and I are the officers and we're still in charge. We wouldn't pass inspection right now, but we've had to adapt. Everyone is safe and healthy, and sooner or later we'll make sure someone finds us."

Captain Benson smiled, looking around at the expectant young faces. "You've all done a brilliant job, guys. Each and every one of you is a credit to Bunker Hill. I'm proud of you."

The school official lay down on his back again, and Ralph saw it as the light left Benson's eyes, and he realized after a moment that he'd died. Benson had come back and managed to speak to the boys one more time. Then, just like that, he was gone forever.

 **XX**

Ralph couldn't seem to move or speak for a time. He just sat there next to Benson, checking his pulse and then checking it again when there wasn't one. This wasn't supposed to happen. They'd done everything they could. They'd tried to help Benson, but it didn't work. They'd fought to keep him safe and provide the aid they were able to, but it wasn't enough. They'd finally lost someone. Ralph didn't understand it. There had to have been something else they could have done. Something else he could have done. There had to have been a way he could have done better.

Then Simon said, in a voice that sounded oddly deep, "So what happens now?"

That got Ralph moving again. He stood up and looked directly at Piggy, who met his gaze behind those thick glasses. "I need the Builders to dig a grave."

They chose the grassy hill where the Firewatchers kept the fire going. The site chosen was at the base of the dead tree. It would give no shelter to Benson's grave, but it was a good marker for where he was. When the day came that they were rescued, Ralph meant to guarantee that Benson's body could be exhumed and recovered, and returned to his family for proper burial. Until then, the cadets would do what they could for him.

The digging went slowly, as Sam and Tony took turns trying to dig deep with the improvised shovel they'd built and the other Builders worked with sharpened sticks and flat rocks.

Jack stood by with increasingly visible impatience for about ten minutes. Then sighed and said, "Let me do it," and grabbed the makeshift shovel from Sam. Tony backed out of the way in a hurry, not wanting to displease the muscular chief of the Hunters. Jack dug faster and more effectively, quickly shoveling dirt out of the designated area of the grave. His strong muscles rippled like water under his tanning skin as he moved, and it became apparent Jack was deliberately showing off. It was hard to complain, though, as Jack quickly and effectively got the job done. Jack worked for ten minutes, never stopping or even slowing down. Once the space was carved out precisely, six feet long and six feet down and four feet across, Jack climbed out and handed the improvised shovel back to Tony without a word.

It was kind of awkward, trying to speak with Benson's dead body lying right there next to the open grave. But they had no casket, and no idea how to make one, so there was nothing that could be done. Ralph proceeded anyway.

"Captain Benson was a good man. He came to Bunker Hill Military Academy in 1980 and did everything he could to be the best band instructor he could be. I don't think any of us ever doubted that he cared about us. He wanted to see us succeed not just in his classes, but at the Academy and in life. If he had known what we were doing this whole time, I doubt he would have told us to do it any different. We've done everything we could, for him and for ourselves. He spent the last words he had to tell us we are all a credit to Bunker Hill. But what we didn't get to tell him is that he's one, too."

"He was nice to me on the first day of class," Simon said. "Actually, he was always nice to me. He was tough if he had to be but he was always fair. Always."

"Benson got me into singing boys' choir and doing stuff at chapel. I never thought about that stuff before but he made it all interesting," Jack added.

"We did everything we could for him," Piggy said. "We didn't choose any of this. It was lucky Benson even made it out of the plane. Out here we have no doctors and no medicine. There's nothing else we could have done for him, short of getting rescued."

Pablo came forward out of the circle of boys, knelt by Benson, and took his hand. He looked at the captain's face, and with great gentleness said, "I'm sorry." Then he stood up and walked back to the fire nearby, adding more wood.

"I liked Captain Benson," Sam said. "He was good to us."

"Yeah, he was," Eric added, and the twins glared at each other.

Mikey nervously spoke as he looked down, handling his Star of David necklace. "He was nice and he even kept bullies away from me sometimes and I wish he was still alive."

Roger, nearby, suppressed a laugh, managing to avoid interrupting the ceremony. Privately he wanted to kick the little Jew in after Benson. He kept silent, having nothing to say as he often did. Okay, he had some things to say about Benson, but nothing the rest of these girls had wanted to hear. After all the times he'd reprimanded Roger for the boy's behavior towards other cadets, and all the times Benson really had stopped or interrupted some bullying Roger was engaged in, it seemed fair to the cadet captain that Benson had gone and died. The son of a bitch had it coming and if he really had gotten better, Roger would have taken care of that himself at some point.

Peter said, "I hope we go home. I hope we can take him with us so his mom and dad know what happened to him. I wish this didn't happen."

"He was cool," Rapper said, then looked startled and tried again. "I mean- like- he was- he treated us right and fair. Says a lot that the school trusted him to supervise all of us at once."

And so it went. Eventually, when it looked like they'd all said their piece, Ralph said, "Captain Benson, teacher at Bunker Hill Military Academy in Wayne, Pennsylvania, we commend you for a life well lived and now commit your body to the earth and your soul to God. When rescue comes for us, you will not be forgotten. We will all go home together." It took a serious effort for Ralph to compose himself and motion to Patterson, Eric, Andy and Simon, who lowered the body into the grave as gently as they could. Simon insisted on replacing all the dirt himself, working tirelessly to push it all in and pack it down. The strain on his arms made him feel a little better, but only a little. Simon felt guilty, like his giving in to his urge to rush off and go feel the joy of physical exertion with the rest of the Hunters had helped kill Benson. That probably wasn't true, but… it was hard to live with it.

Once it was all done, Ralph dismissed the boys and they drifted off, returning to their usual tasks. Simon stood there, the sun shining down on him, staring at the newly-replaced earth.

"There was nothing you did wrong, Simon," Ralph said gently.

"I don't know," Simon said, feeling deeply conflicted. "I-I should have stayed. At least then I could say I did everything I could. I left and I wanted to hunt and-" he broke off. His body was making demands on him that his mind could not refuse. His heart and muscles sang with happiness as he sprinted through the jungle, or crept through it at a half-crouch, legs tensed for an hour or more at a time. When he did a hundred pushups without stopping, he was in heaven. When he answered the urges coming from his groin with some time alone, he felt happy and relaxed and thankful he had done it. If he didn't do all those things, Simon felt he was going to go insane. He couldn't take it to sit still and watch Benson. He couldn't avoid having crude, primal urges and fantasies about girls and what he wanted to do with them.

What else could he have done? Simon might have actually gone crazy and hurt someone if he'd stayed. He'd had to go and leave Benson. The man had told Simon in a dream that he couldn't avoid choosing, and Simon had chosen to be a Hunter. Maybe Benson had somehow communicated with Simon, knowing he was on borrowed time. Maybe.

"I'm sorry, sir," Simon said, looking down at the grave. "I wish we could've saved you. Ralph said it right. Once we get out of here we're taking you with us. I promise. Goodbye."

With that, Simon turned and headed back down the hill.

 **XX**

Dinner went well that evening, with the Hunters having caught plenty of fish to cook and eat. Not one Hunter seemed to have any trouble with the business of carving the scales, fins, and cutting off the head of the fish, any more than they had trouble with skinning and cutting up the pigs they killed. The smell of cooking fish filled the cove as the fire the Firewatchers set up on the beach got going.

Ralph, still glum after losing Benson, knew he probably would be for days. Maybe longer than that. But even as he tried to make sense of what had happened, he noticed that the Hunters were enthusiastically taking seconds and thirds for themselves- and each serving they ate was no small portion. It ensured there was no food left over at all. The Hunters' appetites had been increasing ever since they'd landed on this island, it seemed like, and Ralph was concerned, because it wasn't helping with the food supply. He wasn't sure what could be done about it, short of ordering the Hunters to cut back or imposing equal rations on everyone.

 **XX**

Peter and Mikey realized they needed to go about the same time, and together the two little ones hurried off to the latrine trench in the trees, which had been dug downwind of camp at Piggy's direction. It was so great that they had a place to go where they wouldn't leave anything for one of the bigger kids to step in and yell at them for. It was also nice that Ralph had made Roger stop being mean and forcing them to hold it.

"I really hope we get rescued," Mikey said as they made their way through the brush.

"Me, too," Peter said. "I hope they send Jack and Roger home. They're mean."

"Yeah," Mikey said, then winced. "Ooh, I gotta go. I gotta go."

They reached the trench and pulled down their underwear. Mikey nervously stuck his rear over the edge, far enough so he could urinate and defecate without going on the ground next to the trench instead. As Peter relieved himself, he was privately glad he'd gone with Mikey. The small Jewish boy was so nervous about the jungle, he would actually hold it until it hurt if he had to go on his own. The little ones all kind of stuck together, having a mutual understanding of each other, being the little guys amidst a tribe of big kids. It was scary on this island and they needed to stick together until they got to go home.

"Okay, I'm all done," Mikey whispered, and he tried to wipe at himself with a leaf. Peter did too, although toilet paper would have been much better. Then they pulled their underwear up and turned to leave.

Roger was standing there. Arms crossed imposingly over his chest, a mocking smirk on his face.

Before either of them could react, Roger reached down and his hands closed like iron clamps around both their necks. He lifted them into the air, and he stepped forward, holding them over the trench. Peter and Mikey wriggled and struggled, their tiny hands pulling at Roger's big ones with all their strength, but it did them no good.

"I could kill you right now," Roger said calmly. "It wouldn't take much. Just swing the two of you and bash your skulls together. I could drop you down there with all the piss and shit and just bury you under some dirt. Nobody would ever know. There's no one to stop me. You understand that, don't you?" He looked at the two small boys. "Don't you?"

But Roger was not looking for a response. He closed his hands a little tighter, and Peter and Mikey both began writhing in desperation and terror as their throats were effectively closed. It made Roger feel happiness, happiness at the expense of someone else, one of the only feelings he truly comprehended. He enjoyed it for a few moments, and seriously considered just letting them strangle and die. But for now, that wasn't the plan. So Roger turned and flung them to the ground, where they gasped and strained for air.

As they scrambled up to flee, Roger said, "Better not tell anyone. There's a Beast on this island, and he'll get you if you do: _me_!"

Peter and Mikey bolted for camp, crying as they ran. Roger knew they were not going to tell anyone. His early experiments, forcing Mikey to hold it until he literally shit or pissed himself under threat of vicious beatings if he didn't, had been a total success. Those two would keep quiet because they knew Roger was serious, and that he could and would follow through on this threat.

Roger basked in the expressions of terror he'd seen on their little faces, long after they disappeared. They had struggled and wriggled and it had been useless, absolutely useless. Roger was far too strong for them. They had been completely within his power. It had been a strain, holding both of them in the air, but these iron-tough arms, thickening rapidly with strong muscles, had been up to it. They hadn't trembled once. Roger was stronger than he'd ever been in his life, and just now, he'd had to fight to resist the urge to break some bones with his bare hands! Knowing he had the power to do it was intoxicating. There were no teachers here, no rules or laws. Only Ralph would even try to get in his way now, and he wasn't going to be the boss forever. Sooner or later Jack would take charge of things, Roger was sure. And when that day came, Roger would start to really have fun. He had so many ideas, and once Jack opened up his mind a little more, he'd see the merit in them.

As he came down from the high of tormenting the two little ones, Roger noticed a familiar dull, pleasurable ache in his crotch. He checked, and sure enough, he'd ejaculated in his undergarments. Roger grinned. There were times when he was hurting someone else when he really did enjoy it that much, and that it had happened this time- it just went to show how much fun he was having here. Roger loved this island.

* * *

 **A/N: 5-14-2017. Got the fourth chapter done.**

" **Shore leave" is when a member of the U.S. Navy or Marines is approved for free time away from the ship. "Liberty" is similar, but the sailor/Marine must stay closer to his duty station and is generally free for a shorter period of time.**

 **The second paragraph that Simon devotes to thinking about Jack and who he is- that is from the StarCraft universe, from the reporter character Michael Liberty, who was reflecting on the famous/infamous Arcturus Mengsk, Emperor of the Terran Dominion.**

 **I am a little surprised but quite pleased at the amount of interest generated by this story. Lots of reviews, and from different users, too. I've said it before, but once again, thank you to everyone who has written a review. At the moment I cannot promise when the next chapter will be- this is a turbulent time for me and my focus on my stories may be limited for a bit. AM83220 is going to send me a new narrative, a summary of the next chapter or so of the story. I'll then work on a chapter based on that summary. Rest assured I will continue this story one way or the other, even if there are some delays.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Red-haired Andy and blond Steve gazed sullenly at Ralph, identical looks of irritation and resentment on their faces. They both wore near-identical wrapped leather loincloths, as did all of the Hunters, their underwear having given way due to the heat and humidity of the island, as well as to the "interior pressure" it was being subjected to, if the incessant bragging of the Hunters could be believed. Ralph had thought he'd gotten used to hearing teenage boys talk about sex and their own genitals, but this was a new level of it. He'd almost given up telling the Hunters to stop talking about it where the little ones could hear.

But there were times when Ralph didn't hesitate to put his foot down, and this was one of them. Andy and Steve had been wrestling, and apparently, when Steve had hurled Andy over his shoulder, the shelter behind them had been in the way. Ralph had heard the noise and seen the damage, and had immediately started giving the two Hunters a stern dressing down.

"Were you guys fighting?" Ralph demanded. "This looks like a fight to me, not just wrestling."

"No, we weren't, Ralph," Andy said, in a voice much too deep for the twelve-year-old who had apparently taken up weightlifting in a very serious way.

"Yeah, we were just relaxing after today's spear-fishing," Steve agreed. "We've been working hard and there's no girls, so we gotta have fun somehow."

Ralph rolled his eyes inwardly, briefly wondering how the hell he was supposed to believe that such a hard-fought wrestling match could be called "relaxing". Ultimately, he did believe them, in spite of everything. He knew Jack had instituted a system to settle clashes among the Hunters, typically focused around the game of Mercy. A Hunter referee would normally stand by, making sure that mercy was actually shown when it was called for. Jack had wound up fulfilling that role most often, and absolutely no one among his Hunters had questioned his calls yet, or seemed likely to. Strangely, despite being number two in the group, Roger had not been asked to act as referee yet- nor had anyone challenged him.

None of the non-Hunters engaged in this form of dispute resolution, nor did they challenge the Hunters to it. They wouldn't have had a chance. The short-tempered Hunters, behaving more and more like a pack of tribal warriors eager to impress the females, were requiring too many reminders from Ralph that everybody was on the same team here.

After looking at them a few more moments, Ralph made his decision on how to resolve this incident. He pointed at the collapsed hut, and said, "Piggy and the Builders made that. You two can put it back together with his supervision."

Now Steve and Andy glared at the shorter, overweight boy, who stood nearby, looking at them. Briefly, it looked like they might refuse.

"Fine," Andy said tersely.

"We'll do it," Steve snapped.

Ralph sighed, glad this was over with. "Get it done, guys, and stay clear of the shelters next time. You're lucky you didn't fight near the food shelter and crush half our food!"

He moved off, looking down the beach to see Will, Rapper and Patterson engaged in a spear-throwing competition, using a bulls-eye one of them had carved into the side of a tree. Eric and Larry were together, as they had been for the past week, having a race against each other in another stretch of the sandy cove. What was unusual about it was that they were racing on their hands, their feet high in the air above them. Their loincloths were neatly wrapped and tucked in, ensuring they didn't fall down. Eric and Sam had settled into a cold silence, and Ralph figured this was Eric's latest attempt at making Sam jealous. Simon was doing what looked to be a non-stop series of pull-ups using a tree branch located well down the beach from the bulls-eye tree. Jack and Roger were… where the hell were those two, anyway?

 **XX**

The blond leader of the Hunters and his right-hand-man were standing at the edge of the water a fair distance from the cove, looking straight across at the two small isles visible from here. It was easily a mile, maybe more. They'd been looking in, taking some first steps, and it looked like the shore dropped off pretty steeply on this part of the island. They were going to need to start swimming right away.

"You ready to do this, Roge?" Jack asked, in a voice deeper than he was used to hearing when he spoke.

"You bet I am, Chief," Roger said. As usual, there was zero hesitation, zero uncertainty. Roger lived by absolutes.

"Okay, let's do it," Jack said. He was pretty absolute about things these days, himself. He was eager to go, to head out and get things done. The energy he had in him was incredible.

Jack and Roger dove in and began to swim steadily forward. Making headway was more difficult than they'd expected, and Jack realized quickly that this was going to be hard work. There was an undertow or a current of some kind trying to pull him off-course and under, and it occurred to the blond that it might have been enough to overwhelm someone in less impressive shape. It was lucky, then, that neither Jack nor Roger were anything less than impressive at this point.

Jack put extra energy into it, amazed at the tremendous reserves of strength he'd built up. Months of back-breaking work in the gym couldn't have done what he'd achieved in a few weeks. Jack, a boy who had been in love with himself a while before coming to the island, had gone far past that now. He was the most stunning specimen of manhood he'd ever encountered, and his insecurities and uncertainties were all fading away. Jack's strong muscles pulled and pushed him through the water, and glances to his right showed Roger keeping pace with him perfectly.

It was difficult, but the two boys made it to one of the small isles, rising to their feet and wading out of the surf. Jack realized he was breathing hard, and he noticed Roger was, too. That was pause for thought- if two boys this strong had needed to fight to get here through that current, what would it have been like for anyone in less-than-superb condition?

Jack lay down on the sand, folding his hands behind his head, and let out a sigh as Roger lay down beside him. The blond felt quite pleased with himself. He'd done something truly challenging and made it through, and this powerfully-built frame he was sporting now- it was a wonder to behold. Jack had earned a rest. He laughed, enjoying the feel of the ocean breeze on his shaggy blond hair. "I claim this isle in the name of the Hunters!" Jack proclaimed jokingly, taking his hands up and waving them dramatically.

"The main island should belong to the Hunters," Roger pointed out. "These two isles and that one. It should all belong to us."

Jack just waved that comment away, thinking to himself that was essentially the case right now, anyway. The Hunters ran the whole show. They got to do what they did best, hunting and killing, providing the meat everyone else needed, with nearly all the boys looking up to them in just the way they were supposed to. What else could Jack, the boss, the chief, ask for?

Well, maybe a gorgeous girl lying next to him instead of Roger. God, he wanted that so bad right now. No, he needed it. He'd been hard so often lately, he really wished there were some good-looking girls on the island to satisfy him. It would have felt a hell of a lot better than having to do the job himself, which he had been, every single day lately.

"You know what'd make this better, Chief?" Roger asked.

"What's that, Roge?"

"A girl. A beautiful one. Two'd be better, but I'd take even one."

"I was just thinking about that," Jack said, grinning in admiration of his best friend. They were so alike, so similar. They made their own rules and didn't take crap from anybody. And here, a thousand miles from civilization, that was more true than it had ever been. Here, it was real.

"We'd share her, if there was only one," Roger went on.

"What if she was into it? You know, getting fucked by both of us at once?"

"That'd be fine."

"How about if she wasn't up for being shared at all?" Jack asked.

"Jack," Roger said solemnly, "if we had a girl here, she wouldn't get a choice."

The blond considered saying something against that, but didn't. As badly as his mind craved sexual satisfaction, as much as he needed to have sex right now, Jack didn't know if he could resist the urge to force himself on a pretty girl if she were anything less than eager to be a receptacle for his lusts. And because Roger would want her, too, she'd have to spread her legs for him also. What the hell would her opinion matter out here?

Across the water, Luke was out gathering firewood, and he stopped and spotted the two muscular boys as he glanced out at the small islands. He waved to Jack, who casually waved back, and then ran off with the wood he'd gathered to tell the camp that Jack and Roger had swum out to one of the small isles. When Jack and Roger strolled into camp hours later, they were greeted with eager questions by nearly every boy present. Jack couldn't help bragging about the strong current, and how only Hunters should even try swimming out to one of the isles.

 **XX**

The next hunt was a dismal failure. The Hunters, following Simon's suggestion, attempted to catch or wound one of the pigs to begin the process of domesticating it, but they failed. Struggling to hold back their bloodlust, the Hunters repeatedly fumbled their efforts, and the pigs they went after got away each time. Jack, surprisingly, calmed everyone else down and said it was time to take a break for the day. When they returned to camp, Jack, Roger, Rapper and Larry headed off to the freshwater pond.

While Jack was looking out at the water, he turned to Larry. "I want to cut a vine for rope so we can swing out over the pond. Go and get Tony's survival knife."

Excited to be able to serve his Chief, Larry sprinted off for the cove without any hesitation. A small and mild boy who had grown immensely in the past few weeks, he had been experiencing physical changes he didn't understand. Jack, imperious and commanding, had nonetheless taken the time to explain to the smaller blond what was happening to him. The only thing neither of them could figure out was why it was happening when Larry had just turned ten.

But now that Larry knew it was okay for him to go and "jerk off" when he needed it (which was often) and what that meant, he was glad the changes were occurring. His voice was deepening and he was stronger than he'd ever been in his life. All of this, every single good thing that had happened to him since landing on the island, Larry associated with Jack Merridew, something which only furthered his hero worship of Jack.

The half-mile run through the woods wasn't tiring, or even difficult; when Larry reached his destination, he felt invigorated. He wasn't even short of breath. He found a few of the Builders at work, and picked Tony out among them. "Jack wants your knife," Larry said, as if that explained everything. To him, it did.

But Tony asked, "What for?" and that was when Larry started to get mad. Tony hadn't been rude, and in fact, he was probably prepared to hand it over, just curious about why it was needed. Larry, though, was not interested in any of that. Larry was a Hunter and Jack said he was becoming a man now, and Tony had no business asking him anything! When any Hunter talked to him, Tony was supposed to do as he was told!

So Larry did the only logical thing he could think of: he punched Tony just as hard as he could. Tony went down instantly, and Larry remembered a scene from this old comic he'd read once as time seemed to slow. He drew back his foot and kicked sand in Tony's face, and without wasting a second kicked the other boy hard in the stomach.

Tony cried out in pain, curling up and trying to protect himself, but Larry wasn't having any of that. He reached down and jerked Tony to his feet, and punched him twice on the face. Tony let out a scream of pain and clutched at his mouth. Larry kicked him in the balls, and when Billy and John tried to grab Larry to stop him from doing more, he broke free and shoved each of them hard.

Larry gave a kick to each of the other two boys who'd dared interfere, and was about to do more when he heard a boy shout "Stop!"

It was Ralph. Of course it was Ralph. Jack and Roger had said that Ralph liked to interfere and spoil people's fun.

"What the hell's going on here?" Ralph demanded, striding up them, looking fierce and commanding, carrying himself like a senior cadet officer even in his red underwear.

"I'm here to get Tony's survival knife," Larry answered blankly.

Ralph stared down at Tony, who moaned and spat a glob of blood into his hands. A white tooth, one of the ten-year-old's front teeth, was in the midst of it.

"I better hear a really good explanation for this," Ralph said quietly, "and I'd better hear it right now."

"I'm here to get Tony's knife," Larry said again. "Tony asked me what for. I hit him because he was asking too many fucking questions. Nobody should ask a Hunter questions."

"He's crazy," Tony said, his eyes rolling fearfully. "Get him away from me!"

"He just started beating up Tony!" Billy exclaimed.

"Larry showed up and said Jack wanted Tony's knife," John said. "Tony asked "What for?" and that's when Larry started kicking the shit out of him."

"I saw it," Sam said angrily, coming over. "I oughta kick your ass, Larry!"

"Why don't you go ahead and try?" Larry sneered, his temper flaring, his body eagerly getting ready for another fight.

"That's enough, Larry," Ralph said firmly, in a voice that brooked no argument. "You're way out of line here. You're confined to quarters inside Benson's old shelter until further notice."

"But the next Hunt's tomorrow!" Larry exclaimed.

"I imagine Tony won't be able to go either."

"Oh, who the fuck cares, anyway!" Larry exclaimed, too amped up and ready to fight to care about that.

"Go, Larry, or I'll cut your rations, too."

Larry snarled angrily, but he stormed off to the specified shelter and went inside. There, he threw himself down and waited, wondering how the hell he was supposed to attend to his "male needs" now, without the privacy and solitude of the woods around him. Hell, not just that- he had no idea how he was supposed to do anything like this, stuck in this shelter. Hopefully Jack would have him freed soon.

 **XX**

Not five minutes later Jack showed up with Roger and Rapper in tow, each of them visibly irritated. "So where the fuck's Larry been jerking off this whole time?" Jack called out, looking around.

"Larry beat up Tony," Billy answered. "Ralph's confining him to quarters."

"Fuck you say?"

"You heard him, Jack," Ralph said, coming over to them. "Larry lost his temper when Tony didn't hand over the survival knife the second he was asked, and Tony lost a tooth over it! I'm confining him to Captain Benson's old shelter for now."

"He's a Hunter," Jack said irritably. "You should let me discipline him."

"I'm in charge of all the groups, Jack. I made a call on this and I'm sticking with it."

"You sure you are?" Jack asked.

"Yes, I am," Ralph answered.

The two traded hard stares, neither one giving an inch as the tension rose between them. Ralph noticed, to his discomfort, that the tall blond in front of him now looked at least eighteen, his lanky frame having filled out to a virtual mountain of bronzed, bulging muscle. A boy engaged in serious bodybuilding at his age couldn't have achieved better results. Jack's voice had deepened, too, adding to the more imposing presence he had now.

Then Jack, of all people, acted to defuse the tension. "Larry staying out of it is gonna leave us a man down for the hunt tomorrow. How about you go with us instead?"

Ralph, taken aback by Jack's sudden agreement to his punishment for Larry, found it hard to refuse. He didn't really want to go, but he couldn't come up with a reason to say no, either.

"All right," he heard himself say.

 **XX**

Jack smiled. "Looking forward to it… sir."

He added the honorific with some clear sarcasm, some mockery, but it sounded polite enough that Ralph couldn't really say anything about it. The blond then headed over to Tony, who was moaning and holding his mouth. Jack didn't ask. He just took the knife and headed back towards the fresh water pond, Roger and Rapper following close on his heels.

Once they were out of earshot, Roger asked, "What're we going to do tomorrow?"

"We're going to make sure Ralph appreciates the difference between the Hunters and everyone else. He doesn't see it yet. He will soon enough."

 **XX**

Ralph awoke to Roger shaking him the next morning. When he opened his eyes and looked up at Jack's right hand man, Roger just said, "Get up. It's time to get moving."

As Ralph did, exiting the hut, he looked around to see if Tony had come back. Piggy had gotten the idea of keeping him by the fresh water pond overnight. Ever since Larry had punched out one of his front teeth, Tony had been in a great deal of pain. There was a chance of the injury becoming infected, or any number of other things. Ralph didn't really want to think about it; there was nothing he or anyone else here could do if things got worse for Tony. They'd just have to hope for the best.

Taking up a spear and falling in with the rest of the Hunters, Ralph thought about something else. This was the first time he'd personally visited this group as they did their job. The Builders he'd spent plenty of time with, especially since Piggy had needed backup to establish his authority, and to some extent still did. Ralph had never fully trusted the Firewatchers after Pablo's incredible failure, letting that Marine helicopter fly past. As much as Ralph hated to admit it, he'd gone up to the hill constantly because he didn't really believe Pablo could do his own job. The Hunters- Ralph had left them alone. They'd always seemed to have everything well in hand.

 _Or maybe_ , Ralph thought as they approached the edge of the jungle, _I knew I'd be out of place among them_. Even Eric was his size now, and apart from the absent Larry, all the Hunters were taller than Ralph. Worse yet, they all were visibly stronger than him, more muscular by an excellent margin. Ralph had always done well in athletics, was in good shape for his age, but right now, he felt like the small, skinny nerd amongst the jocks. Or a cub among a pride of lions.

"We hunt in a pack," Jack explained, clearly for Ralph's benefit. "Sometimes we break up into twos and threes, usually we stick together but spread out some. We stay low and move quiet. We use hand signals instead of calling everything out. If one of us sees a pig, we signal everyone else and we move in. But if you see an opportunity, you take it. Rapper, help the Colonel keep up."

To that last, the ebony-skinned Adonis standing near Ralph replied with a knowing smile.

 **XX**

Ralph had never imagined that such a swift pace could be maintained by the Hunters while they moved in near-total silence through the jungle, crossing the rugged terrain at a half-crouch. How did the muscles in their legs alone stand up to that kind of abuse? Ralph's own legs were cramping up inside of the first half hour, and a fine sheen of sweat soon covered him as he worked to simply move fast enough. Though he started in the middle of the group, Ralph rapidly fell to the back, finding he could not even come close to keeping up with them. Rapper, seeming to have expected this, fell back with him.

"Larry never had any trouble keeping up," Rapper remarked, as Ralph struggled up yet another incline.

"Really?" Ralph asked. Small, timid Larry had turned into quite a bodybuilder now. It would have been impossible to believe if Ralph hadn't watched it all happening.

"Oh, sure," Rapper said, nodding. "No way would he be having this much trouble if he was here now."

"I'm not having trouble," Ralph said tersely, having little breath to spare. Rapper didn't look all that convinced.

"Doing all right back there, Colonel?" Roger called, a hint of mockery in his voice.

"Doing good, Roger," Ralph answered, fighting to keep his voice normal.

"You need a rest? We can stop if you need us to," Jack said, sounding much too kind to be sincere about it.

"No, that's all right," Ralph said. Jack and Roger let it go, but Ralph heard them snickering up front.

A few minutes later, Rapper stopped, turned, and threw his spear through the air like a javelin. The weapon flew straight as an arrow, but it slammed into the tree a wild pig was standing beside, instead of spearing the pig. It looked to Ralph like Rapper had done it on purpose.

"Get that spear out of there," Rapper said, taking Ralph's own spear and going after the pig, with several Hunters eagerly going with him.

Ralph went over to the tree, and was amazed to see how deep the spear had gone into its trunk. It had been driven in quite deep. And try as he might, Ralph had no luck at all pulling it out of there. He braced himself against the tree and pulled as much as he could, but the spear stayed where it was.

Then Rapper came back, and giving Ralph a look of amusement and contempt, reached up and yanked the spear from the tree, the cannonball-sized black bicep on his right arm not even seriously flexing from the effort.

The first sighting of the pig didn't result in a kill; apparently, Rapper and the guys let it go so they could all watch Ralph fail to pull the spear out of the tree trunk, and then have Rapper do it for him. Ralph began to wonder if Jack hadn't set all this up beforehand. Sure, he couldn't have made the pig show up where and when it did, but he could have briefed his guys on what to do when they found one.

Eventually, after searching the mountainside for another hour, they located another pig, a boar, and Will was the one who chased it down, running up to it as it sped away and plunging his spear into it. Will then hoisted the animal onto his broad shoulders and began to carry it back to camp, the other Hunters grinning and congratulating him. Ralph was once again reminded of a pack of wolves, a pride of lions. These boys were quite well adapted to the primitive life of the island now.

Ralph watched with disbelief as Will continued to carry the boar, which had to weigh two hundred pounds at least, as if it was really no big deal. His shoulders seemed to be bearing the weight just fine, where just weeks ago, they couldn't have done it at all. How was that even possible? Too exhausted by the long march to even try to keep up, Ralph fell back to the rear again and just watched as Will carried the pig, handling it like it weighed five pounds or so.

"Any of us could do that."

The voice, spoken from his left, made Ralph jump a little, and he was once again glad he was in the back. He looked and saw Simon beside him.

"What do you mean?"

Almost apologetic, Simon answered, "All of us are able to do what Will's doing. Us Hunters, I mean. We could all carry the boar like that."

Simon spoke with some sympathy toward Ralph, but he also carried himself with great pride, with obvious confidence and self-assurance. The buff, proud muscle-boy in front of Ralph was a drastically different person from the Simon who had landed on this island three weeks ago. Ralph remembered how Simon had looked, what he had been like, and suddenly burst out with the one question on how mind: "How?" He hissed it, keeping his voice down, but said it with force, with a desperate need to know. "How can you guys even do this? How'd you get so strong so quickly?"

"We've been getting a lot of exercise," Simon offered.

"Everyone has," Ralph said. "But it's only you guys that it's affecting like this!"

 **XX**

Simon thought about saying more, but did not. He considered telling Ralph about his dream, about Captain Benson and his influence on Simon's decision to join the Hunters. But he didn't. What was he supposed to say about that, and how would he have had any guarantee that Ralph would even believe him? Ralph was a good guy and a good leader. He always aimed to do the right thing. But with something like this, Simon couldn't expect him to understand.

With some encouragement, Simon got Ralph caught up with the rest of the Hunters- with the back of the group, anyway. They'd been falling back even from there. Just as they caught up, Piggy came running out to the group, panting and sweating from a long and difficult run.

"Tony's gonna try to swim out to one of the little islands!"

 **XX**

Ever since Eric beat him up, then Larry, Tony had been able to think of little else. He'd been a perfectly normal guy, popular enough and with some prospects of advancing his status at school. Now he was the guy who got beat up by two kids who weren't even his age. Both of them had suddenly taken up bodybuilding and Tony was being left behind, a weak little kid who couldn't even handle himself in a fight. At Bunker Hill, if word got around the barracks that boys younger than you could beat you up, knock one of your teeth out even, you'd be in trouble.

The humiliation was almost as bad as the pain from his knocked-out tooth, and the shame of knowing how embarrassed Danny would be if he could see Tony right now. After all that Danny had tried to teach him, nothing came out of it at all. Tony hadn't learned a fucking thing. Well, he was going to show everybody what he was really made of! When Tony came back from that isle, everyone would respect him again, and when Danny heard about it when they got rescued, he'd know the kid brother had held his own. They'd all know that Tony Matthews was as good as Hunter.

So Tony shut down any of the boys who tried to argue, to talk him out of it. When they tried to pull him away from the shore, Tony fought back, shoved them. Finally Piggy took off running, no doubt meaning to go get Ralph and the Hunters.

Tony had no intention of letting them stop him.

 **XX**

Ralph and the Hunters all broke into a run when Piggy came running up with the news- even Will, who continued to carry the boar on his shoulders. They all sprinted back to the cove, with Will effortlessly shrugging the boar off and dropping it to the sand as he ran past the campsite.

They all reached the point where Tony had jumped in about a minute after the boy did so, but that turned out to be a minute too late. Tony had gotten too far out for just anybody to swim out and bring him back, and even from the shore, it was obvious he was having trouble.

"Tony! Tony, come back!" a dozen boys screamed.

"You gotta get outta there!"

"The current! The current!"

"Swim back!"

"Tony! You gotta turn around!"

Ralph saw Tony turn their way, and read the fear on his face. Briefly, Ralph's eyes and Tony's met. The other boys might have thought that Tony could still get himself out of this, but when Ralph looked directly into Tony's eyes, he realized: Tony knew what the score was. He knew what was happening.

The current began to sweep Tony out to sea, and not even Ralph's loudest shouts could stop it. Tony was fighting with all he had, but he'd gone too far out, and the current had too strong a grip on him.

"You got to get out of there!" Ralph screamed, and without even thinking about it, he bent his knees and got ready to dive in. Just as he was about to, a hand like a steel manacle clamped around his left arm. Ralph whirled and saw Jack standing there, his shaggy blond hair hanging around his face, wearing an expression of grim, forced calm.

"Don't, Ralph," Jack said. "It's him or both of you."

"Let me go!" Ralph barked. "I'm going out there!"

"No, you're not. I won't let you kill yourself, Ralph. Not even a Hunter could fight that current and drag Tony back."

"And you're not even a Hunter, Ralph," Roger said, making one of his rare statements about anything.

Ralph wanted to argue, but found he couldn't. Jack just held his arm and his gaze with equal steadiness, and slowly, Ralph realized that the blond was right. Tony was beyond anyone's help. There was nothing they could do. Agonized still over doing nothing, Ralph looked out to see and watched as Tony continued to splash and fight and struggle, getting smaller as the current took him farther away. He cried out again and again for help, using bursts of strength to raise his head high enough to shout. Once he called out Ralph's name, probably looking instinctively to the leader for help. Eventually Tony's struggles seemed to weaken, and finally, he began slipping beneath the surface, staying down longer each time. The last one went on too long for it to mean anything but what Ralph was dreading.

Ralph didn't know how long he stared out at the ocean, waiting for Tony to resurface. Holding out hope that the brassy-voiced, cocky boy would fight his way up and carry on the struggle. But Tony never came up again.

 **XX**

Eric watched from the campfire as Sam, out at the edge of the woods, struggled through another set of pushups. His twin had been punishing his body lately, subjecting it to workouts like he'd never even tried before. The boy who shared Eric's face was attempting to bridge the gap, to balance things, to make them twins again. Even though the two were not speaking right now, Sam felt the connection, the need to be like his brother.

How Eric had become so strong, so stunningly fit, he honestly didn't know. He loved it, loved the excitement of a hunt or of a good, long workout, but Eric could not explain how this had happened to him. He couldn't explain why he was getting hard between the legs all the time and needing to "relieve" that need privately on a pretty regular basis, even though he was ten. It was all just happening. Sam clearly wanted to be equals again, and as hard as he was struggling to achieve it, Eric wanted to go over there and tell his brother to stop overworking himself, to tell him it was hopeless. Whatever had happened, however all the exercise had somehow benefited Eric, there was no way Sam was catching up now.

But Sam, proud and touchy and doubtless grieving over the death of Tony, whom he'd gotten along with at school and had tried to befriend here, would not take it well if Eric tried any of that. Sam would just push Eric away and try even harder than before.

Sam was visibly frustrated- extremely frustrated- at his snail-slow progress. He had to be going crazy at how Eric now looked more like his muscle-packed older brother than his twin. Eric, from the moment he saw Sam fighting to try to catch up with him, decided he would have nothing to do with mocking Sam for his efforts. Had this happened to Sam instead, Eric knew he would have done no different. If it were possible, Eric would have gladly given half his newfound strength to Sam, shared his physical power and made them equals. But, unable to do that, he simply resolved to try to keep an eye out for Sam and wait until they worked things out somehow and the two of them were friends again.

 **XX**

Ralph sat by the campfire as darkness fell, exhausted by the long hunt today, guilty and heartbroken at having presided over the second death on this island. As inexcusable as it was, as selfish and dismissive as it was of Captain Benson, Ralph had so far gotten away with telling himself at least no cadets had died. All this time, he'd reminded himself none of the boys had been lost. Now he'd have to explain the death of one of the boys directly under his command. With Benson incapacitated from the start, this had been his show. Ralph had been in charge. Tony's death was his responsibility, because when you were the boss, everything- everything- was your fault.

Then he looked up from the sand for the first time in he didn't know how long, and saw the massive portions each Hunter was taking for himself. They were eating first, crowding out anyone else, and taking so much Ralph feared there'd soon be nothing left. Finally reaching the end of his rope, Ralph jumped up and exploded.

"Do you guys see what the hell you're doing?" Ralph shouted. "You're gonna eat the whole damn pig before anyone else even gets a strip of bacon!"

The Hunters all looked at him like he was crazy. They just stared at him.

"Did you hear what I said-" Ralph began, taking a step forward, but Jack got in his way.

"They heard you- they just don't care," Jack said flatly. "We bring in the meat, we get to have all we want! This is our food and our show! You eat after we do!"

"The food is for everyone! You bring it in for the camp, not just for the Hunters!"

"Back off, man!" Jack shouted. "I'm sick of your shit and so's my gang!"

" _Your_ gang?" Ralph asked incredulously. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Jack poked him hard in the chest. "What it means, _Colonel_ , is that if you know what's good for you you'll _stop_ trying to run everything!"

"Jack, you are way outta line!" Ralph yelled back.

"You shut your mouth," Roger said warningly, getting up.

"Siddown, Roge," Jack said, motioning with one hand, not even breaking his gaze. "I've got this one."

Roger sat down.

"Larry just about worked himself to death doing pushups and situps today!" Jack bellowed. "My Hunters go out and feed everyone! We're the reason all of us are alive but you are too stupid to know who's actually running the show!"

"Let me speak!" Piggy cried, rising with the conch in hand. "The rule still applies! Whoever has the conch gets to speak!"

Jack dealt with that little idea quickly. He reached over, a look of utter contempt on his handsome face, and tore the conch from Piggy's grasp. Jack put both hands into it and ripped the shell in half, tossing the pieces aside. He towered over Ralph, the firelight playing over his deeply tanned, fantastic physique.

"Get this in your head, Colonel," Jack said. "You are not in charge anymore."

Ralph felt something in him snap, and he wordlessly took a swing at Jack's face. He felt the blow connect, but Jack didn't even budge, and the next thing Ralph knew, a freight train had slammed into him and knocked him to the ground.

"So you wanna play rough, huh?" Jack said, stomping Ralph hard in the crotch, then the stomach. "Okay. Now I wanna play, too."

The curly-haired boy did all he could, but Jack effortlessly beat him down. The blows were merciless, coming down like sledgehammers, and pain began to blossom everywhere Ralph was hit. He struggled to his feet at first, but as it went on, Jack wound up jerking Ralph to his feet, only to knock him down again. Finally Ralph collapsed to his knees, pain roiling in his balls, his stomach, blood running from his nose. He clutched at his stomach and threw up on the sand.

Then Jack was there, grinding his face into the vomit.

"Here, Colonel. Here's your fucking food."

Just when it seemed like Jack was going to smother him right there, he let Ralph go, stood and addressed the camp.

"I run this fucking show now! Me! I'm Chief! Anyone wants to disagree, I'll give you what I just gave Ralph! The Hunters eat first, and we eat all we want! Everyone else has what's left over!" Jack looked larger than life as the fire seemed to make him glow, standing at his full height, looking down at them all, sitting around the fire.

Turning to Ralph one more time, Jack said, "He doesn't eat anything tonight, and you know what? That fucking piece of shit doesn't eat at all unless I say so. Now, does anyone have a problem with any of this?"

No one said a word.

The Hunters mostly looked amazed, but some of them looked pleased. The Builders and Firewatchers were in shock, not knowing what to do or say.

Roger, though… he looked happier than anyone had ever seen him.

Hungry, tired, battered and frightened, Ralph retreated to the edge of the camp. No one came near him.

 **XX**

Simon watched it all happen and did nothing, and he felt guilty about it. Yet he continued to do nothing even as Jack, the alpha male, asserted total control over the camp and made it official that Hunters would eat first and most. Simon ate his generous share like everyone else, and he was glad to have it. Ralph didn't deserve this, not at all, but it was hard for Simon to think of how he could come to Ralph's defense, especially about limiting the Hunters' food intake.

The Hunters had a voracious appetite. Their bodies needed more fuel than the other boys' did, and that was just a simple fact. Ralph probably thought they were eating this much food out of greed and gluttony; the reality was they were doing it because they needed it! Jack had been right about that and Simon knew it. Now, with Jack in charge, the Hunters would get the food they had to have. Everyone else would simply have to make do. Simon regretted it, but that was how it had to be.

The little ones had cowered visibly during the confrontation, and they huddled close together, seeking strength and comfort- what little they could have- in numbers. Most of the Hunters ignored them, but Roger cast glances at them now and then, and the little ones did not like it at all. Simon wished he could help them. For now, they were okay. Even if they'd end the day hungry, at least none of the bigger kids had hurt them.

After eating his fill, Simon felt pressure in his loincloth. All that meat seemed to get him in the mood. If there were girls or women here, Simon would have been mating with them after each dinner, just to keep from going crazy. He knew he'd have to go out alone to deal with that later, since no girls were here. But right now, he suppressed that urge and focused on what he had to do next.

Huddled at the edge of the dark, Ralph watched the camp and the sea alternately. He was doubtless thinking about his downfall and wishing it hadn't happened, and wishing that the rescuers these boys had long been awaiting would finally come.

Simon came over and spoke to Ralph, who just shrunk away from him. Getting him to his feet was an effort, and Ralph staggered and swayed so much that Simon had to hold him up the whole way to Benson's old hut, the one Larry had been confined to for today.

Talking to Ralph only did so much good. Ralph's mind was racing in many directions, and he tended to mumble incoherently. Maybe Jack had disoriented him some with a few of those more brutal blows. Maybe Ralph was just in shock. But Simon managed to calm him down some, and even brought Ralph some meat, hidden in his hand. Ralph looked at it and Simon incredulously, then scarfed it down, as if afraid he'd be seen with it. Simon was inwardly saddened to see Ralph reduced to this. The strong, confident cadet lieutenant colonel, brought down to the instincts of prey.

Hopefully Ralph would recover himself soon, although Simon had a feeling that Ralph would need to keep his head down from now on. Jack had meant those things he said.

After heading out to the woods and taking care of some needs, Simon returned to camp and sat outside the entrance to the shelter he'd led Ralph to. He made sure the other Hunters left him alone, and Jack and Roger didn't much seem interested in bothering with the recently-deposed leader anyway. Without meaning to, Simon fell asleep there.

 **XX**

That night, Simon had another dream about Benson. He found himself at the cove, just where he'd fallen asleep, and looked up to see a clean, healthy-looking Captain Benson standing over him.

"Hello, Simon."

The boy scrambled to his feet, remorse overwhelming him as he looked at the man. "Sir, I'm-I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you, when you died- I didn't- I should've-"

"There was nothing you could have done, Simon. You leaving to go hunt didn't kill me. It was my time. None of you boys could have changed that."

"But- now, we'll never know…" Simon said uncertainly. "I should've stayed."

"It wouldn't have changed anything," Benson said again. "You made the right decision in joining the Hunters and in staying with them. But this isn't the time to second-guess anything, Simon. You need to be strong now. The time's coming soon when you're gonna have to start swimming against the current."

Simon frowned, uncertain as to what the captain meant. "What, like, swim out to one of the isles next to us? Do I need to make it out there, like Tony tried to?"

If that was what the captain wanted, Simon was sure he could do it. He was a lot stronger than Tony had been. He'd get out there if he had to.

Benson shook his head. "No, not like Tony. What you will have to do will be harder, and if you fail, the consequences will be worse."

* * *

 **A/N: 5-24-2017. Completed a fifth chapter! The document for this story has reached 100 pages, but we're getting a decent ways into the story. AM83220 continues to write the main storyline, sending me the "narratives" that I turn into chapters, so if you like my work, be sure to take a look at his.**

 **Jack and Ralph use a few pieces of dialogue from the 1990 movie in their confrontation in this chapter. One of Jack's lines, a favourite of mine from the 1990 movie, is "What it means, Colonel, is that if you know what's good for you you'll stop trying to run everything!"**

 **This chapter is a major point in the story, since it depicts Jack taking control of the group in a different way. Ironically, because Ralph's methods kept everyone together, and Jack didn't get held responsible for the fire going out, now that the breaking point has come, Jack was able to take charge of everyone at once instead of seceding and gradually taking more and more of the guys with him. Now, he runs the camp, and has control of all the boys left on the island.**

 **By this point, the story has gone on far longer than it did in the 1990 film, where by counting the number of days and nights shown, the boys were there something like a week. Here, they've been there for just over three.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Jack stared into the fire, thinking.

What he had done just now was probably the most brutal act of his life. He'd been in plenty of fights before, and had won most of them- Roger had bailed him out of a few, a lifetime ago. But this- he'd beaten Ralph up and hurled him to the ground, and dared anyone who wanted to do something about it to come up and take their chances.

It had been the biggest rush he'd ever experienced. No politics, no discussions. Just raw power, out in the open. Jack's muscles now had the strength to give his will the backing he'd always wanted. Roger had been there to lend a hand, give his word weight. But now… he could act all on his own if he wanted to. He could kick Roger aside- if he wanted to. Jack didn't want to, but the important thing was, he had the option, the opportunity. If Roger named a condition for his continued support that Jack didn't care for, now, Jack could refuse him. Maybe that would be necessary one of these days. Or maybe it wouldn't. Roger had been loyal so far; never once had he let Jack down. Never. All Jack needed to do was convince Roger that he had a master to serve, more than ever, and that he would continue to be rewarded for his service- but no longer would he make demands. Jack was the only one who would do that now.

The beating of his hated enemy, his rival, had satisfied the wound to Jack's ego that was done by Ralph getting voted in as leader when they first got here- and by Ralph having higher rank in the first place. Jack had avenged that insult. He had paid it back many times over, all in one act. Every time Ralph had made him go here, go there, do this, do that- Jack had made him pay. He'd beaten the Colonel until the other boy was cowering before him, and he left him to huddle in the darkness at the edge of the camp, hungry and alone.

It made Jack feel good to know Ralph was experiencing that. He felt glad. Maybe he'd force Ralph to be his personal servant, made to do the most menial tasks, groveling at Jack's feet for scraps. If Ralph tried to keep his damn pride and refuse, he would be beaten and starved. Eventually, Jack would make Ralph so desperate, he could demand a blowjob in front of the whole camp and Ralph would do it gladly.

Why not? It was power at its finest. Jack would probably make Ralph do just that if the mood struck him. Some humiliation was definitely in order.

Jack had never been so powerful at school, at any of his schools. Bunker Hill had been just the latest one; Jack's antics had seen him expelled from more than a few. So he'd been one of the top kids in the barracks, holding some influence, some authority beyond his rank. So what? It hadn't amounted to much and Jack had needed to constantly remind people, especially new cadets, who he was. At home, Dad and his dumb stepmom were always yelling at him, telling him to stop messing around.

Sticking his cock into another girl, mixing it up in fights, skipping school, stealing the occasional car- Jack had done those and other things because he was bored. Because his life was empty and lacked direction, purpose. What the hell else did he have to do with a Dad who had never really known what to do with him and a stepmother who saw him as a nuisance?

Here… here Jack was something. Someone. The little ones cowered at his sight, huddling together and visibly shaking. The savage beating Jack had delivered, the rage he'd shown, had terrified the little cadets. Jack, once upon a time, might have regretted that. Now, he liked it. It was fun being feared. Those kids would do anything he said right now, even fight each other to the death. Jack had absolute control over their lives.

The Hunters were at his beck and call. Everyone else would follow his orders because they knew no one stood a chance at contesting them. Jack was drunk on the thrill of success, of freedom from a bullshit world and its stupid rules and restrictions, and above all else on power. He had never dreamed he'd hold so much. No one could get in his way here. No more stupid teachers, or adults of any kind. No cadets of higher rank making him back down. No one at all. Jack stared at the fire, silently thinking that he had never felt so in touch with the power held by the chieftains of the tribes that human civilization had begun with, long, long ago.

Those men had been uncontested, too. What the chief said was law. Nobody questioned him, not as long as he still ruled. And the kings of Europe- they'd had some deal where they said they got their authority from God. There was some fancy word or words for it, but Jack didn't know. Like he gave a fuck what they had to tell him in history class.

It was better to forge your own path, burn your own place into the history books. Do shit that other people would one day write about.

Jack, here on this island, felt like he had never amounted to more in his life. He wanted for nothing here, had all the freedom and power he'd ever longed for.

Well, he did want for one thing. Girls. Women. Jack hadn't had sex in forever, and jerking it every day- or multiple times, given how often he was getting hard lately- was just not the same. If only some girls had wound up here, too. Jack would have charmed his way into their pants quickly, and now, with his guys all getting needs of their own, Jack would've made them into whores.

Especially the pretty, imperious little princess, the dean's daughter, Arianna. Jack would have had some fun with her on this island. And Roger, too. And Rapper. And all the rest of the Hunters. Simon might have been reluctant still, but as bad as he needed that kind of release, he couldn't have refused to take someone like Arianna if she were here. Simon would have raped her eventually, just to keep from going insane. Jack could imagine how he'd have made her beg, how he'd have tricked her and manipulated her and made her crawl. It was beautiful to imagine.

Maybe, if he ever got off this island, Jack would get around to some of that.

 **XX**

"Hey, Chief," Roger said, in a deeper voice than he'd spoken with when they'd first come to this island. Like Jack, he looked and sounded eighteen. And looked like a bodybuilder. Firelight played over rippling, bulging muscle, and from where Jack sat, Roger towered over him.

"Yeah, Roge?" Jack asked.

"That was beautiful," Roger said, and the other boy seemed unable to keep a grin off his face. "You should have done that a long time ago. He had that coming."

"Yeah, he sure as hell did."

"Nobody's gonna mess with you now," Roger said, grinning still. "You're the boss and everyone knows it. You want something done, just say it. I'll make it happen. It's an honor to serve you, Chief."

Jack liked that. He liked it a lot. He grinned right back at Roger, and said, "Don't ever forget it. I'm Chief."

"Never."

Roger sat down beside Jack, on his right as always. Jack could tell something had changed. Roger had said more in a minute than he normally did in a month, and he was never one to say things he didn't mean. Unlike a lot of people now, Roger never gave praise for the sake of making someone feel good. He was so impressed with Jack that he couldn't even seem to stop himself from saying what he had just now.

"That was fucking awesome, Chief," Rapper said, approaching moments later. "Roger's right. Ralph had that shit coming. I'll drag him over here and kick his ass some more if you want."

The thought of his fallen rival being beaten for his entertainment was thrilling to Jack, but as strong as all these guys were, there was the risk they'd go too far and accidentally kill him. If that happened without Jack wanting it to, that'd be a win for Ralph. As long as he was alive, he could be made to suffer. And right now, he was bruised and hungry, frightened and alone. He'd crawled off to hide in Benson's old hut, from the look of things.

"Nah," Jack said, shrugging a muscular shoulder. "Thanks, though."

"I'm with you all the way," Roger said, ramrod straight as he stood before his Chief. "Just say the word."

Jack took a moment to notice how much taller Rapper had gotten, how much stronger. Like all the Hunters, the black-skinned boy had apparently become a passionate weightlifter, and was fucking amazing at it. Powerful, sculpted muscle was visible everywhere on his body. To have someone like that be offering you their unconditional loyalty was an amazing thing.

"Tomorrow," Jack said, "kick Ralph in the balls. Bring him right up to me and do it to him. I wanna see it."

"Can I help?" Larry asked. His face was flushed with a kind of savage joy Jack knew very well. Larry had hated Ralph ever since he'd been confined to the inside of one of the huts for a day, and was just aching for some payback.

"Punch him in the stomach as hard as you want," Jack said, like a king conferring favors.

"Yes, Chief," Larry said. The smaller boy looked like an extremely fit fourteen-year-old now, and there was no one else more blindly loyal. Larry had once been timid and small-minded; now he was savage and small-minded. He still thought like a little kid, and because Jack gave him the guidance and direction he needed, Larry responded by admiring Jack, worshiping him, and being eager to do anything Jack told him to.

"I wanna hit him too," Andy said, stepping forward. His red hair was turning into a reddish lion's mane, and like Rapper, he now looked and sounded years older than he was. "I wanna fucking cut his nuts off with Tony's survival knife. What you did to Ralph was amazing, Jack. You should do it to him every day."

Jack grinned, delighted and amused. "I think he's suffering enough right now," Jack said. "But tomorrow, you get to wake him up."

Andy's freckled face fell. "What?" he gasped. "Jack, I- come on!"

"You didn't ask me how I want you to do that," Jack said, grinning still.

Andy looked at him curiously. "How should I wake him up?"

"I want you to piss in his face."

The Hunters howled with laughter at that one, and Andy nodded, more than satisfied.

Eric, Will, Steve, Patterson, and Simon were close by, but didn't offer any personal congratulations of their own. Jack didn't mind. They were loyal and would obey without question. He might ask for personal loyalty pledges from them sometime, but right now, Jack didn't feel any need.

Larry was at least as thrilled as Roger at what Jack had done to Ralph. He stood in front of the other Hunters even after they'd all sat in a circle around the fire, Jack at the head, and recounted the beat-down in great detail.

"He was like Captain America," Larry exclaimed, "just laying down the law! Telling people what's what! Nobody messes with Captain America, and nobody messes with Jack!"

"Hail to the Chief!" Roger bellowed, and the Hunters all roared it back.

Jack watched his Hunters as they celebrated him, honored him, pledged loyalty to him. Never in all his life had the blond adolescent felt so good. And he felt no guilt over beating Ralph, no remorse. That weak, hesitant part of him was even more suppressed and hidden than usual. Jack was all steel, all strength. He liked who he was now. He didn't ever want to change.

 **XX**

As Jack had ordered, Ralph was awoken by a stream of urine hitting his face. As he sputtered and sat up, the urine kept coming, and he had to put up a hand to keep it out of his closed eyes. Ralph looked up and saw Andy standing over him in the hut entrance, completely naked, shaking a large, circumcised penis. When he saw Ralph looking at him, the redhead grinned.

"Morning, Colonel," Andy said, and he laughed.

"That's disgusting, Andy," Ralph blurted. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Aw, you're just mad 'cause I'm bigger than you," Andy said, shaking his penis again. "You got no idea, Ralph. The girls are gonna beg for it. Beg." He turned and shouted over one muscular shoulder. "Hey, guys! He's up!"

"Wooo!" Larry yelled, and he came sprinting over with Rapper and hauled Ralph to his feet. The boys' hands locked around Ralph's arms like bands of steel. There was no contesting that. Ralph tried anyway, but he was hauled out of the hut and onto the beach, toward Jack, who sat cross-legged, eating some leftover meat.

"Well, good morning, Colonel!" Jack said, nodding and smiling. "Okay, guys, go ahead."

Andy came over and grabbed Ralph's left arm as Larry let go. The blond boy stood in front of Ralph, gazing hatefully at him. "Here's your solitary confinement, _sir_."

Ralph tried to steel himself for the blow, but Larry's fist caved in his stomach like a hammer. The sheer force of it was unbelievable. Rapper pivoted and swung a leg, kicking him in the groin, and the two powerful blows made Ralph's vision nearly white out. Nausea hit him in a mighty wave, and Ralph vomited what little he had in his stomach onto the sand. Larry hit him again, and Ralph strained against the muscular arms holding him. His stomach tried to reject its contents again, but there was nothing. Ralph dry-heaved, retching horribly, and he could hear the Hunters laughing. Jack smiled at him.

"Okay. So now that we got you up, would you like to eat?"

"Yes," Ralph said, surprised at even this slight hint of humanity.

Jack's smile grew wider. "Are you ready to beg for it?"

"Fuck you, Jack," Ralph spat, disgusted like he'd never been in all his life.

Larry's hand suddenly wrapped around his throat then, and Ralph's windpipe was instantly closed. He stared up at Larry's enraged face as the younger boy strangled him.

"You're nothing but a piece of shit, Ralph," Larry shouted. "So be a _quiet_ fucking piece of shit."

Ralph's hands pulled at Larry's, and he strained to take a breath, but there was no chance. None. He couldn't do anything, not even against Larry, who just weeks ago had been another scared kid.

"That's enough, Larry," Jack said, and instantly Larry let go. Ralph collapsed onto the sand, one elbow landing in his own vomit, and he gasped, struggling to breathe again.

"Fuck you, Ralph," Larry said, and Ralph felt spit land on the back of his neck. "You talk to the Chief like that again and I'll kill you."

"Okay, guys." Jack stared at Ralph a moment. "Throw him back in that hut. Make him drink salt water if he comes out without permission. Let's see how he likes solitary confinement for a day, Larry."

Looking absolutely delighted, Larry hauled Ralph back to his hut all by himself. Delivering a few kicks for good measure, Larry walked out and rejoined his Chief.

 **XX**

"There are no more groups," Jack told everyone after he and his Hunters had eaten, and the others had been thrown a few scraps. "Only the Hunters and their servants. The rest of you better be grateful we haven't left you to starve out there. Roger's volunteered to stay behind on today's hunt, and make sure everyone here behaves. One more needs to stay." Jack smiled. "Don't worry, guys, we'll rotate on this. So if you miss out on something good today, just remember there's tomorrow."

"I'll stay," Simon offered, but Jack shook his head. "Simon, I still feel bad you had to miss out because you were babysitting Benson. You get to come with us today."

"Let me do it, then," Patterson said, speaking up in the voice of an older boy. Formerly a somewhat lanky fourteen-year-old, Patterson, like the other Hunters, was now a model of physical strength. His powerful muscles promised swift retaliation to anyone who disobeyed Jack's orders. And while he'd been pretty non-aligned before, neither aiding Jack nor getting in his way, he was now a loyal foot soldier, carrying out orders without complaint.

Jack nodded. "All right. Roger, Patterson, you guys each get a whip made out of a stick and some vines, like Roger was talking about. We're gonna have a new system of discipline around here."

Roger nodded, grinning wolfishly, and Patterson nodded. The Hunters moved out, leaving Roger- cold, merciless Roger- in command of the camp. Simon hesitated, but only for a moment. He had wanted to stay, but Jack had responded by granting a favor, compensating him for earlier hunts he'd missed. Ralph would have to manage on his own for a while.

 **XX**

Ralph sat inside his hut, listening to the others work. He wanted to help, but Roger had forbidden it. The little ones had begged for more food, but Roger said no, and told them to shut up. Outside the hut, Patterson was knocking out pushups and situps, unable to sit still while he watched and made sure Ralph stayed in the shelter.

Mikey wandered by at one point, staying close to Peter. The two of them looked hungry and scared, and their eyes turned to Ralph briefly. They still looked to him as the leader, and still hoped for him to please come and save them. They wanted to eat, and they wanted to go home. But Ralph just dropped his eyes and said nothing, and Patterson yelled at them to get back to work.

The enclosure Roger had ordered be built at the base of the rocky cliff overlooking the cove was going to be built by the time the Hunters came back late in the day. Ralph knew it. That team of slaves, formerly the Builders and most of the Firewatchers, had two big incentives- they didn't eat again until the work was done, and they'd be whipped if they didn't get it done on time. What was the enclosure for? Pigs. The Hunters planned to domesticate some of them.

Ralph hid in the hut, powerless and alone, the stink of urine and sweat and grime inescapable. He had to urinate in one corner, but he could not go to the pond to drink. Ralph didn't need to defecate. He hadn't eaten enough for that. His body was bruised in so many places, and he ached all over. Never had Ralph felt so useless. Those boys out there were his responsibility, and he had failed them. Jack had beaten him up and taken over, and now everyone was overworked and underfed except the Hunters.

Pablo was up at the hill, keeping the fire going. But before he had left with a couple of others, Roger had added his own incentive to make sure the fire kept going: letting the fire go out again would be punished by death.

Whipping, beating, death, withholding of food. Those were Roger's punishments. Peter tried to steal food late in the morning, probably in a desperate bid to feed Mikey, whom the other small boy was always looking after. Peter screamed and cried as Roger brought the home-made whip down on his back, but Roger didn't stop. John and Patterson held him while Roger did it, right in front of the doorway to Ralph's hut. Roger didn't even try to make Ralph look. He knew the other boy would have to. He knew the guilt would tear at Ralph's insides, and seeing, Peter cry and scream, and Mikey beg and sob, would break Ralph's heart.

It ended, eventually, when a series of bloody red scars crisscrossed Peter's small back.

Ralph wanted to apologize. He wanted to beg for the other boys' forgiveness. He wanted to be whipped so they wouldn't have to be. Those little ones, so small and helpless. What was happening now just might haunt them forever. The trauma from this might well ruin their lives. And Ralph knew he could have stopped it. All of it was his fault.

 **XX**

As morning passed into afternoon, Patterson wandered away to urinate into the ocean. He defecated on the sand and then yelled for one of the others to come take it away, a task that fell to Sam.

"What're they giving you for this, Patterson?" Ralph asked quietly, as the brown-haired boy returned to his post. "Jack and Roger- what they're doing is wrong."

"It's not my problem," Patterson said, shrugging one thickly-muscled shoulder. "Jack's in charge now. If you were stronger than him, you would've won that fight."

"This is all wrong," Ralph insisted. "Roger wants to bring back slavery and Jack's letting him do it."

"It's the way things are now."

"Don't you think Jack could be wrong?"

"Jack's never wrong. He's the Chief. He told me you'd try to talk me into letting you go or something. I'm not gonna hit you unless you try to leave."

"Or unless Jack orders you to hit me."

"That's right."

"What about thinking for yourself?"

"It's overrated. And so is nobility, so I'd give that up. We're not at military school anymore, Ralph."

"I'm thirsty and I'm hungry," Ralph said. "A lot of these guys are. It's cruel and unusual punishment."

"No food or water for you," Patterson said. "Jack's orders. And the rest of those guys will work harder if they have to earn food and water that way. Roger says so."

"What do you think, Patterson?"

"I think Jack is the Chief and he gave me orders and you better shut up, Ralph."

Ralph gave up. He moved back away from the entrance to the hut, trying to stay alive in the scorching tropical heat. His body was begging for water, for food. But Patterson wouldn't budge. He gave no thought to the situation save for the fact that he was ordered to do certain things. He was strong and muscular, and none of the bad things were happening to him, so it wasn't his problem. He'd been an average guy, once. Easy to get along with. Now he was a good little Nazi, following orders.

It occurred to Ralph that maybe Patterson liked being told what to do. It made life easier, allowing others to make the decisions. As confusing and frightening as this was for Ralph, it probably wasn't that easy for Patterson. Maybe this was his way of surviving. "I was only following orders."

At what looked like noon, Ralph was startled to see a couple of tropical fruit roll into the hut. Patterson glanced at him, and said, "From Simon," and turned back to looking out at the ocean. "Be glad I get along with him."

Ralph was surprised- both at Patterson's act, and that Simon had been friends with, well, anybody back then- but he didn't question it. Ralph ate quickly, and hid the leftovers in the sand so nobody would suspect Ralph had been given anything. It was nowhere near enough, but it was something.

As the day wore on, Ralph wondered who was going to die next on this island. For so long it looked like their luck would hold. But Captain Benson had died, and Tony had drowned. It tore at Ralph to think of brave, brassy-voiced Tony, sinking deep into the ocean, where uncaring creatures that they'd once read about in science class would eat away at his remains, leaving only the bones.

That was his fault. Ralph had been too slow. He should have jumped in before Jack could stop him. He should have been strong enough to save Tony.

He should have been strong enough to save everyone.

"You couldn't have stopped him," Patterson said quietly, making Ralph jump. "Jack was getting stronger. He would've taken over sometime."

"How did this happen?" Ralph hissed. "How? Why only the Hunters and not the rest of us?"

Patterson shrugged. "I don't know."

 **XX**

Piggy oversaw what was left of the Builders, down one now that Tony was gone. They continued to follow his instructions, and the little ones hurried back and forth trying to help the bigger kids get the enclosure built. They never stopped, and Roger stood around nearby, watching. Sometimes he hit the ground for pushups, or did situps, or jumping jacks. No matter what he did, Roger kept on watching the workers.

What an incentive they had to work now! If they did everything exactly as ordered, they'd get to eat and drink. What fun. And Ralph, the one who had organized everything and done all he could to keep everyone safe and alive, was being kept in that damn hut. It was plain wrong, but what could anyone do? Well, anyone who wanted to do something, anyway. The Hunters all seemed okay with the way things were.

The enclosure took hours to build, but Piggy's expertise made sure it got done. It was at least fifty square feet, and could be modified and expanded if it needed to be. Bamboo made up a lot of it, dry and sturdy. There was even a section that functioned like a gate.

"Hey, this looks pretty good, Piggy," Roger said, walking over.

"If they catch a pig, this will hold it," Piggy said, wary of how Roger was suddenly friendly for some reason.

"Oh, yeah, but we gotta make sure," Roger said, and before Piggy could ask what that was supposed to mean, Roger lifted him into the air and hurled him into the fenced-in space. The fat boy landed hard, almost losing his glasses. "Okay, Piggy, now try and get out like a pig would," Roger said, laughing at him. "Come on, Piggy! Oink, oink! Come on! Let's test this fence! It's gotta be able to hold a pig!"

 **XX**

The Hunters returned just as the sun began to set.

Cheering and yelling, they marched around Andy and Simon, who carried a struggling, squealing pig with blood trailing from its rear left leg, and Jack, who carried himself tall and proud, smiling once again as he came home with yet another success.

Simon and Andy raised the creature over the newly-built makeshift fence, and set it down, where it promptly ran away from them, fighting its limp, and attempted to find an exit to the enclosure. When it failed to find one, it tried to shove at the edges, but they held. Eventually it settled down in the farthest corner from where any of the boys were, eying them all warily.

"That's a nice fence you got them to build, Roge," Jack said admiringly.

"It's amazing what inferior people can do when you make food the reward," Roger replied, and the two boys laughed.

"Peter," Jack suddenly called out as the smaller boy hurried by, "What happened to you?"

"I made a mistake, Chief," Peter said, lowering his eyes. "I won't ever do it again, sir."

"Stealing food," Roger added. "I tested out the whip I made today."

"Okay," Jack said, nodding. "Don't do it again," he said to Peter, who nodded vigorously.

"They may not find your body otherwise!" Roger called after him, and Jack cracked up.

 **XX**

After damn near working himself to death building the enclosure today, Sam got permission to help work on the hill. Pablo, he knew, was absolutely terrified of Jack, and now that Roger had made failure a death sentence, the Hispanic boy couldn't be sleeping much. Not without competent help, anyway. Sam meant to try to lend a hand and make things easier. With the groups as they had been destroyed, and the camp now divided into Masters and Slaves, your old task didn't matter as much anymore. Sam could do either thing, if he had permission.

On his way up the hill, Sam decided to get some work of his own done, and as tired as he was, he stubbornly hit the ground for some pushups. He was going to get stronger. Somehow, some way, he would catch up with his brother. No way was Eric going to win this dumb feud between them with his big muscles.

"Hey, look, it's the Squirt," a mocking voice called, and Sam looked up to see Larry approaching.

"Hi, Larry," Sam said, hoping to avoid an argument.

But Larry, riding high on Jack's victory and still smarting from the public embarrassment of being confined to quarters by Ralph, was looking for a fight whether Sam wanted one or not. He walked up and planted a foot on Sam's back, pinning him to the ground. The breath suddenly forced out of him, Sam struggled and squirmed, but Larry's foot pressed him down like he was being crushed by a boulder.

"Look at you," Larry taunted. "You threatened me. You said you wanted to kick my ass. Well, let's see you do it! I could crush you like a bug if I wanted to!"

Then, suddenly, he lifted his foot and Sam immediately scrambled to his feet, struggling to regain his breath. There was an aching bruise already forming where Larry's foot had slammed down. As Sam stood and faced Larry, he felt like reality had somehow quit on him. His mind had taken a walk off the map. How had Larry, the short, shy boy Sam had known in military school, become the tall, shockingly muscular preteen powerhouse that Sam saw before him? It was unbelievable.

"Remember when you beat up Tony?" Sam asked, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. "Remember when you punched his tooth out and he died trying to prove he was as strong as you are?"

It was a jab at Larry and his involvement in that incident, and it hit home. Larry's face darkened with rage, and he closed in. "Maybe you should punish me then," Larry said. "Come on, Squirt. Punish me."

Sam put up his fists, but inside, he was trying not to start trembling. Even as he put up a brave front, Sam's mind was racing, and he knew he needed a way out of the situation, and quickly. He was in a lot of trouble here. Running was pointless; Larry would catch up to him immediately. Fighting was equally useless; Larry had good reason to look so amused at Sam putting his dukes up.

And there would be no Ralph to stop the fight this time.

"The hell's going on?" Eric demanded angrily, in the voice of a teenager, striding up the hill towards them. Like all the Hunters, he was naked apart from that loincloth, and like all of them, he looked like he had been lifting weights for years.

"I'm gonna teach your puny, weak little brother his place," Larry replied.

Eric looked even angrier after he heard that, and it seemed like he teleported to stand between Sam and Larry. "Don't you touch him," Eric ordered.

"What?" Larry blurted in confusion.

"Touch him and I'll fuck you up," Eric yelled. "I'm not saying it twice, Larry!"

"What?" Larry said again. "You're a Hunter, you're one of us!" He was clearly startled that this was happening at all. He'd probably expected Eric would just be an audience to the beatdown, at most. He hadn't expected opposition at all.

"And Sam's my brother!" Eric barked, and raised his hands to the Mercy position, challenging Larry.

Larry stared incredulously, but finally broke away and stormed off without a word, heading back downhill, toward the camp. No doubt to rejoin his Chief and master, Jack.

Sam started up the hill.

"Sam," Eric said, "wait. You can't just leave!"

"Did you set that up?" Sam asked accusingly, turning to stare suspiciously at Eric. "Send Larry up here ahead of you and 'rescue' me from him?"

"It isn't like that," Eric said, visibly getting angry again.

"I'm just some slave," Sam said bitterly. "You shouldn't waste time talking to me."

"Quit being so stupid!"

"Or what, dork? You'll stage something else?"

Eric screamed, an incoherent bellow of rage. His muscular build suggested that he had become a fighter of powerful gifts, and Sam, for the first time in his life, both feared and hated his brother. He braced himself to be struck by his twin, but the blow never came. Eric stormed off, and Sam watched as he pulled a small tree clear out of the ground and threw it, yelling still. Then Eric stalked away, back towards the cove.

Sam looked after him, wondering if, in his fear and paranoia, he hadn't just made a mistake. What had started as a dumb feud between the twins had evolved into something much more permanent. Sam had a feeling they both wanted to make this right, but resentment and bitterness lingered enough that neither one seemed able to do it. Each time it went wrong. Sam hoped this wasn't going to last forever. He had never imagined life without his twin beside him, and it had been awful watching Eric grow and change and become so different. Sam didn't want the divide between them to be forever, but his rejecting Eric again just now had actually contributed to that. Yet he'd just said it and pushed him away. How much longer would Eric's kindness last, if Sam kept rejecting him when he tried to help? How many more times would Eric bother trying to approach Sam at all?

 **XX**

Andy and Steve blocked the way as Piggy tried to make his way back to the main area of camp, after putting a half-coconut of water in for the pig. From the way they stood with their arms crossed imposingly, a pair of ripped He-Men who once had been just a couple of preteens, they had a problem with Piggy. Everyone- every Hunter, it seemed- had a bone to pick with somebody. It was so easy to upset them, and the consequences were so dire. What a fun camp this was getting to be.

"Two days ago I had to take orders from you," Andy said. "This morning I got my cock out and pissed in Ralph's face."

"Good for you. How'd it feel?"

"Great," Andy said enthusiastically, completely missing the sarcasm. "But that's not what Steve and I wanted to talk to you about."

"We wanna know which one of us is stronger," Steve went on. "I'm sure it's me but Andy says it's him for sure."

Andy lunged forward with one arm, curling it back. He flexed it, powerful muscle bulging into view, and Steve abruptly did the same.

"So, who's stronger?" Andy demanded. "Come on, we wanna know."

"I-I it's r-really- well, I mean, you're b-both p-pretty s-s-strong…" Piggy stammered out, hoping to get out of this with a noncommittal response.

"See, I told you nobody could tell like that," Steve said.

"Okay, we better do a competition for you to judge, Piggy," Andy said. Without warning he punched Piggy in the stomach just as hard as he could, knocking him down. Steve jerked Piggy's corpulent frame up with one hand and hit him again.

The two heavy blows were too much for Piggy, and he barely managed to roll off his back in time to throw up.

"Which one hurt more, Piggy?" Andy demanded. "We can try again if you want."

The force of the two blows had been pretty similar, but Piggy wasn't about to admit that. He managed to get through enough of the pain to say "Andy" and made sure to sound decisive about it. As decisive as he could, anyway.

"You'll just have to try harder tomorrow, Steve," Andy said.

"Guess so," Steve shrugged, and they strolled off together, laughing.

Piggy watched them go, unable to believe how drastically things had changed in so short a period of time. Those two guys had never been so aggressive as that before. Like all the other Hunters, they had been altered significantly by… something. And Roger's earlier abuse of him, then this, was all on the first day of the new management. Piggy decided he did not want to be around for many more. Never did he imagine he'd miss the old Jack Merridew, but the loud, preening peacock they'd landed on this island with was now, by comparison to who he'd become, a modest and reasonable guy.

 **XX**

Andy and Steve chased down a pig that wandered too near the camp as dinner got close. They killed it and dragged it back, and enthusiastically worked to skin it. Jack delayed dinner in response, and for the ordinary boys as much as the endlessly-hungry Hunters, the smell of the cooking meat was almost unbearable.

Once the food was all ready, the Hunters all lined up and took their generous portions. As they feasted eagerly, Jack sat at their head as always, his mere posture saying he felt like a newly-crowned king. He surprised everyone by having Ralph called from his hut. Larry and Andy forcibly dragged the deposed leader over, their expressions saying they hoped they could hit him some more.

"Ralph will eat tonight," Jack decided. "I'm feeling generous. Even on day one, things are better with me in charge."

"The Chief has spoken!" the Hunters all said in unison.

Ralph stepped forward to get his meager share, but then noticed Peter, Mikey, Sheraton, Greg and Tex watching the scene, clearly desperate to get their turn. Jack was making the little ones eat last.

"Feed them first," Ralph decided, remembering his rule, adopted from other men from other times, about leaders eating last.

"Look at him," Roger mocked. "So proud!"

The Hunters laughed.

"Go on, then," Jack said impatiently, and the little ones got handed their small rations. Even so, they hurried off to an open space at the edge of the fire, quickly devouring what they'd been given.

As Ralph finally came up to be handed his food, he realized he was getting a smaller share than even the little ones had gotten. It was pitiful. He looked at Jack, who met his gaze evenly. "Be grateful," he said, "that I'm letting you eat at all."

"Thank you," Ralph forced out.

"What?" Jack said, his tone hinting at anger.

"Thank you… Chief," Ralph made himself say.

"Good," Jack said, nodding. "I'll get you to beg on your knees for scraps if I want. For fucking scraps, Ralph. The Chief's generosity is why you're alive." He then waved dismissively, losing interest.

As he had imagined, Ralph's hunger was barely satisfied by what he'd been given. But unlike the Hunters, who could go back for as much as they wanted, Ralph had no chance of asking for more. Well, he could, but he wouldn't get it.

Sitting at the edge of the camp as usual, Ralph watched something interesting happening. The only non-Hunters who were allowed any additional food were the ones who asked Jack- begged him, more like- and called him "Chief" and "sir" and threw in some compliments, and promises to do anything they were told. Jack was building a system wherein personal loyalty to the boss was rewarded with food, the most valuable commodity here. He was working to make even basic survival instincts tell you to be loyal and obedient to the Chief.

Simon spent most of his dinner sitting near the little ones, doing his best to protect them- generally by distracting any Hunters who took an interest in them. He fed them small scraps from his own second and third helpings, and wandered over with some meat and fruit well after dark.

"Got you some food," Simon said, in his seventeen-year-old voice.

"Thanks, Simon," Ralph said, genuinely grateful.

"Patterson make it a little easier on you today?"

"Yeah. Not a lot, but he did."

"He's trying to stay neutral, but you and I always treated him fair. I also beat him at pushups to one hundred and he said he'd go easier if I did that."

"I guess it's nice they're not all heartless," Ralph said. "Eric, you, I guess Patterson also."

"We have to play the role," Simon answered. "And Patterson had Roger watching him half the time today. Roger doesn't trust anybody who doesn't want to hurt people like he does."

"Hey, Simon!" Rapper yelled from the fire. "Quit wasting your time talking to that loser!"

"Yeah, Jack's telling dirty stories!" Andy added.

"See you," Simon said. "Sorry about all this."

"Not as sorry as I am," Ralph said quietly to himself, watching Simon go.

 **XX**

"Ralph!" a boy hissed in the gathering dark, the cove fire starting to die down. Ralph sat up, startled. Who the hell wanted to talk to _him_?

"Who's there?" Ralph asked tersely.

"Me," the voice answered, and Ralph saw the rotund shape of Piggy coming into view in the dark.

"Go away," Ralph hissed. "I bet Jack's just looking for an excuse to punish anyone who talks to me."

"Things are getting bad," Piggy said without preamble. "It's awful. We did everything just right, just the way the grownups would've. But it didn't work. We need to get out of here."

"How would we even do that, Piggy?"

"The raft!" Piggy exclaimed. "One got washed out to sea, but the other's still here in the cove! See, we wait until the middle of the night. We get some coconut halves with water, and get food from the storage, and we just push off and set sail!"

"What about everyone else?"

"We can't take them," Piggy said mournfully. "There's just no way we could wake everyone up and get them out of the camp without Jack and the Hunters noticing."

Ralph thought about it. "We'll just have to come back for them when we can."

"That's right."

"Okay. Let's wait a few more hours. Then we'll do it."

 **XX**

As much as Jack talked about doing everything perfectly and how no one was better than him, he had never bothered to correct something Ralph had been meaning to: no sentries were posted at camp during the night. Everyone just went to sleep. Sure, there didn't appear to be any threats on this island from the wildlife, but now that a good number of the cadets were unwilling members of Jack's camp, you would have thought Jack would get a guard shift organized to keep escapes from happening during the night.

But then, that was one of the more mundane aspects of leadership, administration. And Jack thought administration to be boring and dumb. Add in a good dose of overconfidence, of "Who would dare try to escape from my camp?" and you had a pretty good explanation for why Jack hadn't bothered to post a guard.

After a wait of two or three hours that had felt like several times that, Piggy crept back over and he and Ralph began working to put their plan in action. As they worked at the cove's edge to stock up the raft, Piggy whispered, "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"What? This was your idea, Piggy!" Ralph whispered back.

"No, I mean, like, what if we get out there on the ocean and a Soviet submarine finds us, and they take us back to the Soviet Union and make us be in the Olympics?"

Ralph laughed, but bitterness soon took over, and he shook his head. "They wouldn't want us, Piggy. They'd want the Hunters." He briefly, and with surprising ease, pictured Larry in a Soviet team's gymnast outfit, the hammer and sickle prominently displayed. Ralph imagined Jack power-lifting eight hundred pounds before a massive audience, an audience of thousands- the kind of audience Jack had always wanted anytime he did anything.

"Would they even wanna be Russians though?" Piggy asked.

"I think Jack would go with anybody who treats him like a big-shot," Ralph answered.

 **XX**

Piggy and Ralph's escape plan was put into action just before midnight, though they had no watches and thus no exact idea of the time. It was a pretty thoughtful plan for one so quickly devised and implemented, and it almost worked.

Almost.

Rapper got up to use the latrine trench and as he came back, he spotted the dark shape of the big raft and two boys pushing it to the water's edge. Rapper shouted in surprise and raced for the nearest shelter, waking up Will and Andy. As the raft started to float away, the three Hunters raced after it, yelling and shouting.

Ralph looked back and saw the three muscle-boys beginning a furious, alarmingly fast front crawl for the raft. He saw them moving much faster than they should have, and realized there wasn't much time.

"Piggy," Ralph said, "let's get out of here! Row, row! Move!"

Swinging the oar as fast as he could, Ralph had time to look back and see the three boys pursuing the raft in the moonlight. It occurred to the teenager that he would have honestly preferred three great white sharks circling the raft over three Hunters swimming for it.

"They're catching up!" Piggy exclaimed, casting terrified glances back. He began to make little grunts and squeals not unlike those of a pig, and Ralph thought briefly of how unfortunate it was that someone so intelligent and mature was so easily made fun of.

The two boys in the raft gave it all they had, but that was far too little compared to the endless reserves of strength the three Hunters put into the chase. The Hunters rapidly closed the gap, and then there was no gap, and Ralph's oar was forcefully ripped away. He let go just in time; had he refused to, he might have lost a finger.

Wordlessly, Rapper seized Ralph's arm and with terrifying strength pulled him overboard and into the ocean. An iron bar closed around Ralph's throat, and he was dragged helplessly along as Rapper used a sidestroke with his left arm to swim back to shore.

Andy, nearby, was doing the same with Piggy, who was just as helpless to do anything about it. Will headed around to the 'front' of the raft and placed his hands against its side. Kicking steadily with his feet, he pushed the raft back in towards the shore, going noticeably faster than Ralph and Piggy had managed with paddles.

Rapper's efforts were not much concerned with Ralph's comfort. Barely able to breathe with Rapper's bulging muscle against his throat, Ralph had his head above water only some of the time. He struggled to take in air, and when he couldn't do that enough, he started sucking in seawater. They made the beach just as it was getting unbearable, and Ralph coughed up the salt water and tried to breathe again. Next to him, Piggy was having the same problems.

Will hauled the big raft ashore all on his own, and distantly Ralph could hear Rapper, Will and Andy all yelling to wake the Chief, wake the Chief. He heard Jack shouting what the hell is going on, I'm trying to sleep, and the three Hunters who'd caught the two escapees giving an explanation.

They'd come so close. Like so many promising plans, it was ruined by one key thing going wrong. For want of a nail, the escape by raft had failed. And Jack, even if he thought a lot of things were dumb, was not dumb enough himself to fail to learn from this. He would make certain the raft was not an option for trying to escape a second time.

It wasn't Piggy's fault. It wasn't Ralph's fault. They just hadn't got enough of a head start before Rapper had spotted them. But knowing that didn't make it any better. Ralph lay there on the sand, soaking wet and absolutely miserable, wishing that this could all just be a nightmare, and that he would wake up.

 **A/N: 5-30-2017. Completed Chapter 6.**

 **Thank you to all reviewers who have posted something since the upload of Chapter 5.**

 **To the reviewer who asked if I could write a story about- something to do with the Marines- I must say no. This is the first story I have ever written on request, and that is after several years of working with AM83220 on this site. My profile actually has a section that specifically states I do not write on request. Had someone PM me about that just recently, asking me if I write on request. I feel like a college professor telling students to read the syllabus. That isn't meant to be condescending to the readers who ask me. Just a funny thought I had.**

 **AM83220 sent me a new "narrative" to write with yesterday, so this is one of the fastest responses I've ever given him on turning a narrative into a chapter.**

 **12-23-2017; FINALLY completed an update to this chapter that AM83220 asked me to do about 5 months ago.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Eric tossed and turned on the sand floor of his shelter, in which he shared space with several other boys. Sleep continued to elude him, even hours after his last interaction with Sam. Eric continued to fume, and that was even after taking a swim in the freshwater pond and jerking off and furiously working out, all in an attempt to calm himself down. None of it was enough. Eric was still burned up about it.

Everyone had seen this morning how easily Larry had brutalized Ralph- a boy four years his senior! That confrontation between Sam and Larry today- Larry could have pounded Sam into the sand using only one fist! Eric stepped in to help, and how had he been repaid? With gratitude, with even a single word of thanks? No! Sam had accused him of setting the whole thing up! Being accused of that… the sheer unfairness of it made Eric's blood boil.

It had taken everything he had to redirect his surging rage toward the little tree instead of Sam. Otherwise, he would have done even more damage to his stubborn, bullheaded brother than Larry would have. Pulling up the entire plant by its roots had strained Eric's sizable muscles to the limit, but it had also taken the edge of his anger, allowing Eric to regain some self-control and stomp back to the camp. Eric had remained incensed over it, though, and he ate little- for a Hunter- at dinner, and saved nothing for Sam. Why bother, when his brother wouldn't believe in his good intentions no matter what he did?

Shouting outside brought Eric's thoughts away from that, and he sat up, wondering what was going on. Making sure his loincloth was wrapped snugly around his waist, Eric got up and followed the other Hunters in this shelter outside.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Jack yelled. "I'm trying to sleep! There better be a good story behind this shit!"

"Ralph and Piggy were trying to escape, Chief," Rapper said, standing tall, dark and muscular in the moonlight. "They tried to get away in the raft. Andy and Will and me stopped them."

Jack stared at the two dejected boys who had been dragged ashore along with the raft, his eyes hard and unforgiving. But he shook his head after a moment and said, "I'm going back to bed. The punishment can wait until tomorrow, so throw 'em in the pig pen. Somebody needs to stay up and watch them."

"That's a Hunter," Roger said sharply. "Slaves don't get to be guards."

"I'll do it," Eric said. He couldn't sleep anyway. Might as well do something to keep busy.

"Okay," Jack said, nodding. "You'll also stay behind tomorrow at camp. Maybe catch some rest after that."

"Sure," Eric said. "I'll watch them."

Andy and Rapper herded Piggy and Ralph to the enclosure, and then physically picked them up and threw them over the fence.

"Ralph," Andy said with a grin, "Roger is gonna split your back open with that whip of his."

"That goes for you, too, Piggy," Rapper chuckled. "Have a good night, guys."

 **XX**

Bitter, bruised and angry, Ralph stared at the sand as the rest of the camp went back to bed. After all the punches and kicks he'd taken in the last few days, he felt like one big bruise all over. He'd gotten to wake up to Andy urinating in his face. That was how low Ralph had sunk in the world; a kid who'd once had no problem with him at all now gladly pissed on him. His throat still hurt where Rapper's huge bicep had almost crushed it. One humiliation after another, and all he'd done was try to do the right thing. Here he was in a dirty pair of red boxers, hungry and tired and battered, and with Roger, that bastard, set to beat him tomorrow. What fun this all was.

Eric, decked out in thick, bulging muscle and wearing nothing but a loincloth, sat watching him from a few feet away. Ralph looked at him and, unable to help it, decided to taunt him. "What? You wanna beat up on me and Piggy now, too?"

That touched a nerve with Eric, and he stood up immediately, heading for the pen. "Yeah," Eric said quietly. "of course I am, because that's all Hunters do, right?"

Eric stepped into the enclosure, visibly furious, and he headed towards them.

"What're you doing?" Piggy asked, alarmed.

"I'm gonna hurt Ralph," Eric said, a dark look in his eyes. "and then I'm gonna hurt you."

"What? Why would you do that?"

"It'll be fucking easy," Eric said, walking closer. "I could do it without breaking a sweat. Maybe then I can sleep. If Ralph's got any balls he'll fight me."

"But I better not do that, huh?" Ralph asked.

"I'll break your jaw if you do," Eric promised. "You hit me once and I'll kill you, Ralph." He sounded like he was looking forward to it. Looming over the two captives, tall, heavily-muscled Eric had never looked angrier. His hands were clenched in fists, ready to strike at any second.

Ralph maintained a kind of stoic calm; part of him even figured that being killed by Eric now might well be a mercy compared to what Jack might do with him if this all went on long enough. Roger had Jack's ear, and nothing good was going to come of that.

But Piggy couldn't stay calm. Easily frightened, he cowered and started crying, and he hid his face from Eric- as if that would offer him any protection if the other boy attacked. "Don't, Eric," Piggy begged. "Please don't. Ralph didn't mean it. They're already gonna hurt us tomorrow. Don't do it."

Eric stared down at them, his expression unreadable. The sight of Piggy pleading and cowering before him, helpless and no challenge at all, deflated some of Eric's anger. Eric didn't say anything, but simply climbed back over the fencing and resumed keeping watch on the other two boys.

It was all silent for a while; the only sound was the wind in the jungle trees and the waves advancing and receding. The moon shone down from above and Ralph wondered where Tony was now. Well, he wondered where the boy's body was. Tony was dead. There was no doubt of that.

"I'm sorry, Eric," Ralph heard himself say. "I know you're not some monster."

"You should tell that to Sam," Eric said bitterly. "I've been trying to look out for him and I don't get why he's being such a dork. Whenever we talk we fight. I didn't start this. He's being so dumb. You guys should be glad you don't have a twin. It's hard being mad at someone who looks and talks like you." He paused. "Well, used to. I don't look or sound like him like I did." Another pause. "I still wanna look out for him. He won't let me."

"How'd- what happened with you guys?" Ralph asked.

"I dunno," Eric said, shrugging one broad shoulder. "We had some argument. He called me a dork and I got mad and joined the Hunters and now he won't trust me no matter what I do. I don't even remember what the fight was about. We're just mad at each other."

"Are you guys twins?" Piggy asked.

"Just figured that out, did you?" Eric snapped, then paused and calmed down. "Yes, we are. We have the same birthday and it's always been impossible to tell us apart. Mom and Dad even called us Samneric because we always did the same things and talked the same way anyway. We're twins. We're basically two copies of the same person."

"That means you're genetically identical," Piggy said, thinking. "So… how come you look like this but Sam doesn't even though he's wearing himself out?"

It was true. In spite of the drastic cut in rations for the non-Hunters, Sam continued to punish his body relentlessly as he tried to build up the kind of muscle Eric had. Sam had made some progress- admirable progress for a normal kid his age- but it was nothing next to Eric.

"I don't know," Eric said.

"He's been at it for more than a week," Piggy said. "There has to be some other factor, like something in the environment. It has to be something you've gotten since you came here and he hasn't."

"I can't think of anything," Eric replied. "I told you, I don't know." He hesitated. "I know my temper's a lot shorter. I get angry really easy and I can't control it sometimes. I have to do a lot of physical stuff or I go crazy. I can't sit still. And it feels good when I beat somebody in a fight or something. I love to do that."

"There has to be something in the jungle…" Ralph turned and stared out into the dark. "It has to be out there. It's the only place the Hunters have gone that the rest of us haven't." He looked at Eric, who was doing pushups. "Can you think of anything you guys might've found out there?"

"No, nothing," Eric said, shaking his head. "We eat a lot of meat but you guys get some and you haven't been getting like us."

"Can you please talk with Simon tomorrow? Tell him he needs to look around for anything in the environment that might be causing this. And tell him what we've been talking about today."

"I could get in trouble, Ralph," Eric said hesitantly. "I'm not looking to get into anything. I just wanna make things right with Sam."

"I'll talk to him," Ralph promised immediately. "He'll listen to me. I'll tell him you wanna talk and fix things with you two."

"Okay," Eric said, just as quickly. "I'll talk to Simon."

They talked a little more after that, but before long Ralph began trying to get to sleep, and Piggy followed suit. They both had a hard time of it, knowing that tomorrow would bring the punishment for their failed escape.

 **XX**

Ralph and Piggy woke up with nothing in their stomachs and nothing to eat. Piggy felt a little faint, and Ralph couldn't think of much besides all the food he'd eaten in his life, all the types and kinds and how much he wished he'd appreciated it better. No matter how much you disliked one food or another, it was all so much better than starving. So much better. And here on this island, with Jack and Roger calling the shots, starvation was a very real possibility.

Andy wandered by and started to untie his loincloth, and he, Will, Rapper and Steve laughed uproariously when Ralph instinctively shielded his face. They taunted Ralph about the size of his genitals and the fact that he was not going to get any food until Jack shouted for everyone's attention.

This morning, Jack got attention the second he demanded it, and anyone could see that pleased the blond immensely. His powerful bodybuilder's frame had developed a suntan that complimented his naturally-handsome looks wonderfully; wearing only that loincloth and all that muscle, Jack would have made heads turn at any pool or beach in America. Here, on the island, Jack's strength, added to the deepening of his already-strong voice, made him a powerfully charismatic adolescent. Virtually everyone was here. Even Pablo, who looked terribly frightened that he'd be killed if the fire went out while he was away.

"Ralph and Piggy tried to escape in the raft last night," Jack began. "I want you to know they tried to steal half of our stored food in that raft. They tried to make the little ones go hungry and they say I'm the one who only thinks about himself! I'm selfish, Ralph says, but he's the one who wanted to let the little ones starve!"

Greg, Sheraton, Peter, Mikey, and Tex were all getting the worst of what was happening. They couldn't fight or hunt or even really work, so Jack was already cutting their rations. They were already scared and confused at the change in leadership and the way the camp was run. Now they were being told that the boy who'd claimed wanted to treat them better had tried to not only leave them, but steal their food.

Mikey looked at Ralph and then looked away, feeling hurt and betrayed. The smallest and most simple-minded, he had retreated into himself since Ralph's beating. He believed Jack. Ralph had lied to him and that hurt worst of all.

Peter looked confused- all the other little ones did. But Peter, who had also trusted Ralph especially well, was visibly questioning if that trust had been misplaced. He tried to comfort Mikey, who began to cry at the mere thought of being forced to starve. The small boy was terrified that each day would bring something worse, and as Peter tried in vain to help calm Mikey, he threw Ralph such a look of pain and hate that Ralph winced as if he'd been struck.

The others would not look at Ralph and Piggy. It was like they didn't want to get caught still trusting them… or they didn't want to even acknowledge them anymore.

"The heroes are Rapper, Andy and Will," Jack went on. "Rapper saw Ralph and Piggy trying to get away with our food and they went out and stopped them. They saved the little ones' food and looked out for the camp." Jack looked at the last two boys, smiling broadly. "You two get to miss out on the first rotation of Hunters that has to stay at camp. You're hunting today."

Red-haired Andy and blond Will grinned, both of them flexing their powerful muscles excitedly. They were ready to go out and take something down. Praised so highly and so publicly by Jack, they felt ready to take on the world.

"And Rapper," Jack continued, "I, the Chief, say that he gets that and more. Rapper is the only black kid here and he saved our asses. So you know what? He's the first one who gets his own slave. Pick whichever white kid you want, Rapper," Jack said with a sweep of his hand, laughing.

Rapper and the other Hunters laughed along with him, enjoying the humor in Jack's decision. Rapper, the ebony-skinned Adonis, smiled as his eyes ran over the various "inferiors," the ones Jack had decided were the lower of the two classes here on the island. His eyes settled on small, skinny Peter, and Rapper pointed. "You," he said. "get over here."

When Peter hesitated, Roger lashed out with his whip, and Peter screamed in fright and pain as one of the vines lashed into his back. He ran quickly over to Rapper and stood in front of him, whimpering.

"You know what this means?" Rapper grinned.

"I'll do whatever you say," Peter said hurriedly, and Rapper kicked him to the ground and planted a foot on the boy's tiny chest.

"You call me 'Master' or 'sir'," Rapper corrected him. "Or you get whipped. Do whatever I say the second I tell you to or you get whipped. I get to decide if you eat each day."

"Rapper owns you," Roger said. "You're his property. He can do whatever he wants to you. He could kill you if he wanted."

"You get it yet?" Rapper asked.

"Yes, Master," Peter said, weeping and nodding as fast as he could from down on the sand. "Yes, sir. I'll be good, sir, I'll be good, I promise."

"Anyone got a problem with this?" Jack asked, looking around as Peter was allowed to get up and stand, head lowered, beside Rapper. "I didn't fuckin' think so."

"I'll stay behind today, Jack," Rapper announced.

"You sure, Rapper?" Jack asked. "You don't have to this time."

"It's cool," Rapper shrugged. He smirked. "I wanna get waited on by my new slave."

"I'll make sure you get Patterson's whip," Roger said. "Punish him the second he's too slow or does anything you don't like. He won't learn otherwise."

"Okay," Rapper nodded. "Sure."

 **XX**

At Jack's orders, Andy, Will, and Rapper- the three boys who had stopped the attempted escape last night- pulled the raft out of the cove and set it adrift. The ocean current began to carry it away, and many of the boys felt crushed, like their hopes had sailed off with it. Some of the Hunters privately wished the raft had not been set adrift, wished it had been kept around so they could use it if there was a need. But even the most moderate Hunters knew better than to question Jack.

Then Jack turned to the assembled boys and said with a grin, "Now about that whipping we were gonna do!"

"Whip me," Ralph said quickly. "The whole thing was my idea. Piggy wanted to stay but I talked him into it. You shouldn't punish him. Just do it to me."

"Do it to me," Roger smirked. "Listen to the Colonel, guys!"

Jack scoffed. "How noble of you, Ralph."

"It's the truth," Ralph insisted. "Piggy didn't do anything."

"Nobility is sorely overrated."

"I'll take whatever you had in mind for both of us."

The Hunters all laughed, sneering and smirking at Ralph. Briefly, Ralph wondered if his effort had failed. Jack shrugged. "Fine. Whip the Colonel, Roger. I wanna see him cry."

Andy and Will went into the enclosure and seized Ralph, dragging him over to one of the coconut trees and tying his arms and legs to it with vine. Andy yanked Ralph's underwear down as a last-minute thought, and the Hunters all laughed and jeered and pointed.

"You," Jack said, pointing at Piggy, who was attempting to avert his eyes. "You better watch . Anyone else wants to join noble Ralph, you go ahead and look away! Roger will get to you next!"

No one looked away.

Roger walked up behind Ralph, tall and heavy with thick, powerful muscle. The brown-haired teenager grinned, raising the home-made whip. "Fifty demerits, Colonel," he said mockingly, and brought it down on Ralph's back.

The blows rained down, one after the other. Ralph shut his eyes as the vines lashed out and began tearing into his skin, and white-hot pain lanced across his back. It didn't take long before blood started to flow. Roger, grinning like a demon that seizes lost souls, whipped Ralph with all his strength, and pretty soon Ralph could not help crying out each time he was hit. Roger barely even paused, bringing the whip down again and again. The louder Ralph screamed and the more blood appeared on Ralph's back, the more enthusiastic Roger seemed to become.

While this was happening, while the cracking of Roger's whip and Ralph's pained screams echoed around the otherwise-silent cove, a tired-looking Eric moved over to stand beside Simon and said something to him.

"All right, Roge," Jack said finally. "Untie him."

Roger set the whip down and obeyed, spitting in Ralph's face as he did so. He smiled as Ralph struggled to look up at him with eyes glazed with pain. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that, Ralph." Roger said it in a warm, almost kind-sounding voice. It was grotesque, how pleasant and out of place it was.

Yelling and gesturing, Jack gathered up the Hunters and they gleefully herded Piggy, who looked dazed and horrified at what he'd just seen, and Ralph, who was struggling to hold himself together, back into the enclosure with the pig they'd caught. The beast squealed as the boys were shoved in with it, moving away to the corner it had chosen earlier, but soon settled down and continued watching them.

Ralph didn't hear Piggy saying how brave that was and thanking him. He was in too much pain. There was something wrong with Roger; no one else here would have been quite so happy about causing pain to others. Roger loved doing it. And while Ralph was probably a special target since he had once been in charge and outranked Jack and Roger at school, Roger had been equally pitiless when he whipped Peter, who still had the scars of his punishment. Roger liked hurting people, simple as that. Ralph had suspected this at school, had sensed something off or missing from Roger, but had never imagined it went so deep. He'd been waiting for a chance to be this cruel all his life.

The sun began to beat down and the heat rose, and Ralph's stomach growled louder and louder. He had fallen even lower, and some part of him knew there was still lower to go. He would never get to be just another slave like the others. He was the cadet lieutenant colonel, the high-profile former leader. Humiliating him would always be a goal for Jack and his Hunters. They'd probably make him starve until he begged and pleaded for food. Ralph wanted to defiantly say he'd never do that, but as wracked with pain and tormented by hunger as he was, Ralph realized he was weakening. He'd do his utmost to hold out, but he hoped that not too much else happened. He wasn't sure if he could stand it next time.

 **XX**

From the enclosure, Piggy and Ralph watched as Rapper ordered Peter around for his own amusement, sending the terrified boy running all over the cove to pick up sticks, rocks, sea shells, and handfuls of sand and move them around. The threat of starvation and further whipping was at the forefront of Peter's mind, and sweat ran off him in rivers as he ran back and forth between the fresh water pond, bringing Rapper half-coconuts of water while the dark-skinned boy sunned himself.

When Rapper finally let Peter drink a little, the black-haired eight-year-old broke down and cried, again promising he'd be good. He was allowed to rest for a little while, but not all that long; Rapper needed a great deal of exercise as usual. Ralph and Piggy watched as Peter was ordered to act as a wrist-weight, clinging to Rapper's thick wrist as Rapper raised a basketball-sized chunk of rock in one hand, his mountainous left bicep rising ever higher. Then he switched, doing another one hundred reps with his right arm.

Eric eventually left for the fresh water pond, bringing back two more half-coconuts and washing the water down Ralph's back. Having noticed it coming, Ralph was able to choke back a scream, and Eric quietly explained this was to help keep the wounds from getting infected. After that, he let Ralph and Piggy drink what was left, and then brought some water in the makeshift bowl they'd found for the pig. Rapper ignored him, completely focused on his exercise and training his new slave. Peter, Ralph noticed, was already getting used to instant obedience to any order, living in fear of harsh punishment, and addressing his owner as "Master" or "sir," but never by his real name.

Mikey and the other little ones wandered around uncertainly. They, like the other 'inferiors', were all ranked as slaves and were permitted to do pretty much nothing without orders or permission. Jack had given them no orders and neither had the two Hunters left to guard them, so they sat around. Mikey's eyes kept sliding toward Peter, and it was obvious he didn't like Peter being owned by someone else. But he couldn't help. The little ones stayed far away from Ralph and Piggy, either because they believed they'd been betrayed, or because they'd been promised a beating if they got too close. Maybe it was both.

"I'm going swimming," Eric announced to Rapper, who was now using Peter as if he was a dumbbell, raising and lowering him with one arm. "Sure, okay," Rapper nodded. "Sounds good, man."

Ten minutes later, Rapper finished one hundred situps and a hundred flutter kicks, and decided to rest in the shade for a little while. He lay down and closed his eyes while Peter stood over him, waving some palm tree leaves.

Ralph watched helplessly, wondering again what this all had to be doing to the little ones. They truly didn't understand what was happening to them or anyone else. They were tired and hungry and scared, and they wanted to go home. But Ralph knew even these small boys had been taught about slavery at Bunker Hill, how graduates of the school had fought for the liberty of the South- and the liberty of colored men in chains. Slavery was an evil, an inexcusable, unmitigated evil. And now Roger and Jack had restored it. Left to their own devices, able to act without society's authority figures and laws in the way, they had made human beings property again. The little ones, who had been told like the rest of these boys how terrible slavery was, were now being made to learn that it was a fact of life they needed to accept.

 _If I ever get out of here, Ralph vowed silently, I will come back and free everyone. Or maybe I'll just have to free them here, with whatever help I can get. I have to free these guys. I have to_.

It was strange, but here, with his back in incredible pain and his body beginning to slowly starve, with it all gone wrong and his rank and status lost, Ralph still wanted to help. Just like in the beginning, all he wanted to do was run things right and keep everyone safe until they were rescued.

Jack, though… he was out for himself. This was a chance to be the boss- that's how Jack saw it. And he had Roger there, the savage, tribal Himmler, telling his Chief the best way to do things. Cruelty, savagery and brutality were all Roger understood, and he was doing an excellent job of getting Jack to adopt them.

With one Hunter who was on guard away at the pond- though Eric was okay, regardless- and the other napping, Ralph thought about trying to escape now. But as much pain as his back was in, Ralph didn't know how much he'd be able to do. He couldn't fight. His hunger was weakening him. He thought about yelling for everybody to just run for it, at least take a shot at escape and perhaps freedom in small bands, but that would wake Rapper up. He was dozing, but he wasn't out completely. He'd heard Ralph yelling.

And what would Peter or any of the little ones do, even if you yelled at them to run? They had no idea how to take care of themselves. They were completely dependent on the older boys for food and even water, since they kept getting lost on the way to the pond. If Ralph yelled and the camp broke out in a panic as Rapper tried to grab everyone who attempted to run, the little ones might take off with no plan of what to do or where to go. They might be worse off than if they stayed, especially if they were caught and punished.

No. Escape would have to wait for now.

Sam was wandering around, poking a stick in the sand. Ralph caught his eye and motioned quickly for him to come closer.

"What?" Sam asked, cautiously eying Rapper.

"I wanna talk about Eric," Ralph whispered.

"So?" Sam asked.

"He's sorry and he wants to be friends. He can't help how he is. Something's happened to him and the other Hunters and it's changed them."

"Like what?"

"We don't know. But we think it must be something out there in the jungle. It's the only place the rest of us haven't gone."

"You went out there once," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah," Ralph said. "But whatever it is they found, I didn't see it that time."

"What, they found like a gym or something?"

Ralph suppressed a laugh. Sam stared curiously at him, clearly wondering what was so funny, but Ralph just shrugged. "I don't think it's that, Sam."

"Okay. So what is it?"

"I don't know. I'm gonna try to find out."

"So is Eric gonna help or something?"

"He wants to. He really likes you, Sam. But his temper's shorter now and he's frustrated. He thinks you won't trust him no matter how he tries to help."

"You're saying he didn't just fake that whole thing with Larry?" Sam asked, still suspicious, but a little curious as well. "I thought he faked it so I'd un-call him a dork. He was the dork, not me."

"What is it with you guys and that word?" Ralph asked, confused.

"It's what we say to insult each other. Usually we don't really mean it but that time we did. When we argued." Sam hesitated. "It's weird not having a twin. I mean, Eric and me used to look exactly alike. We were the same. Now he's so different."

"He feels that way, too."

"I think he's a dumb dork and he's trying to fool you," Sam said. "But he can talk to me, I guess." Sam's stomach growled and he looked down unhappily. "I wish you were still in charge, Ralph. I wish we were back at school. I wanna go home."

"You and Eric can still make up again. That way you can both go home."

"He doesn't need me," Sam said, bitterness clear in his voice.

"He misses you," Ralph insisted. "Will you at least listen to him when he tries to talk to you? He's a Hunter but he really did save you from Larry the other day."

"Okay," Sam said uncertainly. "I hope he doesn't try to fight me again."

"Larry or Eric?"

"Both." Sam paused, looking around. His eyes settled on Peter, who was still fanning Rapper and looking more miserable than he'd ever been in his life, and Greg and Tex, who were trying to calm Mikey, who was about to cry. "I'm scared, Ralph."

"Me, too."

Piggy stayed quiet the whole time, watching and listening. When Sam wandered off again, Piggy whispered, "Ralph, we need to get out of here."

"I know, Piggy," Ralph whispered back. "We'll try something. We have to. But we need more time."

 **XX**

Today's hunt was about catching, not killing. Jack wanted to catch a female to match up with the boar they had managed to capture. Out on a hunt as important as any they'd done before, the Hunters moved like they always did- as a pack. If one saw something, they'd all freeze and close in on it, swift, silent and deadly. Or loud, swift and deadly. Either way, nothing got away from them once they started a chase.

"I wish we could catch some girls," Andy said wistfully. "I mean, the point's to get the guy pig a girl pig and get 'em to fuck, right?"

"Breed," Will said from nearby. "I think they call it breeding."

Andy grinned. "I'd sure like to do some breeding, know what I'm saying, guys?"

The Hunters all laughed. Jack high-fived Andy, who looked absolutely delighted to receive obvious praise from the Chief.

"If we had a girl," Jack said, "I'd like that Arianna Lovejoy to be here. I'd breed with her. Make a whole lot of little Jacks."

"What about me?" Patterson asked.

"You'd get your turn with her," Jack assured him. "Roger would get her after me, though."

"I could have her, right?"

They all turned, startled. That was Simon. Quiet, philosophical Simon, asking if he'd get his turn with the stunning beauty that was Arianna, if she was only here.

"Sure," Jack said. "I guess you'd want Simon Junior?"

"I just wanna fuck," Simon blurted, and they all cracked up, crowding around Simon and slapping him on his broad back, hitting the broad side of their spears against his thickly-muscled shoulders.

"Damn, puberty's been good to you, Simon!" Jack laughed.

"Shut your fucking trap, Jack!"

The other Hunters were stunned, but Jack just laughed and high-fived the other boy, clearly impressed with his nerve.

"I can't stand it when we start talking about that girl," Roger grunted as they got moving again. "She's so stuck-up. I'd set her right. She'd learn how to behave."

"Damn right, Roge," Andy agreed.

"Right on," Steve added.

"I guess we'd all get a turn with the girl if we had one, right?" Larry asked hopefully.

"Sure, Larry," Jack agreed, smiling and patting Larry on one of his muscular shoulders. "You'd have to wait till the older guys have her first, but you'd get a turn."

"Okay," Larry nodded. "I just wish she was here."

"Believe me," Jack sighed, "so do I."

Suddenly the leaves of a bush up ahead rustled, and the Hunters all snapped their spears and looked that way. A pig darted out of the brush, running like hell to get away. The Hunters all exclaimed and cursed; they had gotten so distracted that they'd let their guard down, and were thus about as surprised as the boar was.

"Take it alive! I want it alive!" Jack yelled.

"I got it, Jack!" Larry shouted, as he sprinted forward, throwing down his spear and putting all his effort into running. He jumped over and darted around mossy rocks and fallen trees, but the boar leapt off a twenty-foot drop and somehow landed safely, continuing to run.

Larry didn't even hesitate. He sprang off the edge and dove, doing just what he'd seen Roger do when he killed the first pig on this island. Larry briefly wondered if he'd aimed right, if he would land correctly. If he didn't, chances were good that he'd die.

Better that than disappoint Jack. Larry adored him and was desperate for a chance to impress him. Maybe this was it.

As he came down on the running pig, Larry made a much greater impact than he would have weeks before. He was a lot heavier now. His weight suddenly landing on it made the boar squeal in surprise and fear, and Larry wrapped his strong arms around its body as they tumbled to the ground. His first instinct was to grab its neck and try to break it, but that would make Jack mad. He wanted this one alive. So Larry wrapped his legs around it, too, and wrestled fiercely as it struggled to get free. After rolling over a few times, in which Larry received several cuts and bruises from the rough and uneven ground, the blond boy managed to hold the boar down. With a tremendous effort, he held her in place, refusing to allow the boar to escape.

"I got him, he's down here!" Steve shouted, and suddenly the older boy was there, also helping to pin the boar down. Andy and Will showed up moments later, then Roger, Jack and Patterson.

"Damn," Jack said. "Tie her up! Come on!"

They got some vines and tied the pig up, and Larry hurriedly shoved his loincloth in the boar's mouth, largely silencing her cries. Then he stood, hefting the boar's front legs as Steve raised the back.

"Larry, you wrestled her down all by yourself?" Jack asked.

"Yes, Chief," Larry nodded.

"That's amazing, fucking amazing," Jack grinned. "And that jump you did- that's some courage there, man." He clapped Larry on the shoulder, looking down with admiration. "I'm fucking impressed, Larry. That was awesome."

The younger boy's deep, broad chest swelled with pride as he stood up straighter, feeling like he could take on an army by himself. He looked up at Jack with admiration, with respect, and with love. "Thank you, Chief," Larry managed to say.

"Stick with me and you'll learn a lot, Larry," Jack said, with another clap on the shoulder. "And you don't always have to call me Chief. You can say Jack sometimes."

"Th-thank you, Jack," Larry said, unable to keep himself from grinning. "I'm glad you're in charge. It's so much better now."

Jack just smiled. Larry wondered if maybe he wasn't becoming a kind of kid brother to Jack. He figured he'd better try even harder from now on, just to be sure he didn't ever disappoint his mentor and hero. Jack was impressed with him, and he was carrying a heavy, struggling boar on his shoulder like it was nothing as they took it back to camp. Larry had no complaints, none at all. Well, the lack of girls- that was one. But all the Hunters were griping about that. Sometime, somehow, Jack would get them girls. Larry knew it. Jack could do anything he wanted.

 **XX**

Simon was at the back of the group as they marched back to camp, bragging and boasting. Larry got some teasing for being naked, but not that much. Apparently his advancement to his teenage years had worked out well, and he was impressive enough not to be seriously mocked. Simon knew Larry was proud of that.

As great a success as the Hunt had been, Simon was downhearted. He hadn't been able to find or observe anything that suggested what was the start of all this, why the Hunters were so different from the rest of the boys.

He'd been thinking about it all through the hunt, even while discussing fucking Arianna Lovejoy like some piece of meat like the rest of the guys were doing. The sincerity in his voice as he'd talked about it scared Simon, but he couldn't much help it. He needed that and thinking about a girl as beautiful as Arianna being here, available to the Hunters… it was tempting, more than tempting. But even while he'd talked and thought about that, Simon had wondered how they'd all gotten this way. There had to be something behind it.

But they were heading back now, and Simon hadn't seen anything. He'd probably just have to quietly tell Eric and Ralph that he'd failed and try again tomorrow.

Spotting some red berries, those familiar red berries, off to the right as he marched, Simon reached out and pulled some off the bush, popping them into his mouth. He savored their familiar sweet, almost sour taste, wishing he had a bucket of them. Then Simon abruptly stopped walking and turned to stare at the bush.

 **XX**

"I love it when I win!" Jack yelled in triumph as he led the Hunters back into the camp. "Hey, losers- Larry here jumped twenty feet to tackle this boar that was getting away! He's a fucking badass!"

Larry couldn't have looked prouder.

"Put her in the pig pen," Jack ordered. "Andy- get Ralph and Miss Piggy out of there. If they're too slow, kick their asses."

"Sure," Andy said, grinning. As the boar was brought into the enclosure and set down, the red-maned boy strode in and jerked Piggy and Ralph to their feet, then dragged them from the enclosure and threw them onto the sand. Then Andy turned and called, "Hey, Rapper!"

"What's up?" the dark-skinned boy asked. He was drinking some water that Peter had brought him. From the exhausted, desperate look on the small boy's face, he hadn't had a rest all day.

"Can I borrow your slave? Me and Steve were gonna do some arm-wrestling when we got back to camp."

"Sure," Rapper said, then yelled at Peter, "Get over there! Run or I'll make you eat sand! Run!"

"Yes, Master!" Peter cried, sprinting over to Andy. "Yes, sir, I'll do whatever you want, sir!"

"Get down on all fours," Andy said. "You're gonna be a table."

"You got no chance," Steve said, leering. "None." He stepped up on one side of Peter while Andy stood on the other.

"I think Andy's gonna do it," Larry called out.

"Maybe it'll be Steve," Rapper said.

Suddenly the air was filled with Hunters calling out support for one contestant or the other, and the blond and the redhead got down and set their elbows on Peter's back. Jack stood right over Peter, powerful arms crossed imposingly over his barrel-like chest, and said, "Okay. This isn't a wrestling match, you fucking retards, so when one of you goes down that's it. Understand?"

"Yes, Chief," Andy replied, nodding.

"You got it, Chief," Steve agreed.

"Go."

Cheers and yells broke out as the Hunters all moved in even closer, shouting right in the ears of their favorites. Grinning and grimacing at the same time, Andy and Steve battled fiercely, the muscles in their respective arms bulging and straining, showing not only how immensely strong they were, but how closely matched they had become. The two boys leaned in close, pressing hard on the 'table' as they fought with all their strength. Below them, Peter held back screams of agony, tears streaming down his face. His back cried out for mercy as Andy and Steve's elbows dug into it, but he would be harshly punished if he collapsed or tried to move away. They would starve him and beat him and make him eat sand or sea water. Peter had told them he would be good and he wouldn't disobey. So he trembled and wept and wished for death, but he stayed still.

"YES!" Andy suddenly yelled, as he finally overpowered Steve and jumped up, his fists raised high in the air. In his excitement, he kicked Peter in the stomach and the little one crawled away, moaning, to throw up on the sand. The Hunters were all so busy talking about the arm-wrestling match and how close it had been, they didn't notice. Peter, like all the non-Hunters, was only worth noticing when a Hunter wanted something.

Ralph approached Peter as he was dry-heaving near the water, and had his arm around the boy's bony shoulders in a second. "Breathe," he advised. "Just breathe. Take it easy. It's okay."

Peter wept helplessly. "I-I wanna go home," he said, again and again. "I wanna eat. I wanna sleep. I wish I was dead."

"It'll be all right," Ralph said with a calm he didn't feel. "We're gonna get rescued."

"No, never," Peter said with terrible conviction. "We'll be here forever."

Ralph tried to argue, but someone else came up to them and Peter's eyes widened in fear. He scrambled up and lowered his head. "Yes, sir, I'll do it," he said. "I'll obey and I'll be good, promise."

"It's okay," Simon replied gently. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"My Master says I better do anything a Hunter says or I'll get punished. I don't wanna get punished."

"Well, I'd like you to go and eat a banana," Simon said. "I want you to eat one and rest a little. Then I'll take you to go get some water."

Peter nodded. "Yes, sir." He ran off and got a banana from the storage, then brought it back and held it up. Simon had to explain again that Peter could eat it, and it wasn't for Simon. Then the little one found Mikey and gave half to him after peeling it and they both sat under one of the trees, talking about Play-Doh. It was almost a little scary, how quickly they calmed down and assumed everything was safe when you were even a bit nice to them. They understood so little of what was happening that it actually made it easier for them to adjust, in a way, to life on the island. But there would only be so much adjusting to live as the Hunters' slaves.

Once Peter was safely occupied, Simon turned to Ralph. "I found out how it's all been happening."

"How?" Ralph asked breathlessly.

"Berries," Simon said excitedly. "It's a special kind of red berry that grows on this bush on the island. Jack found some and he and Roger were the first to eat them three weeks ago. We've all been eating them- all the Hunters, I mean."

"Berries," Ralph repeated in disbelief. "Berries. I never would've- I don't know how-"

"This is it. These berries. I'm sure of it. They're the only food we've never brought back and shared. Everyone who's a Hunter has eaten them. I don't know how it works, but this is what's doing it."

"Good work, Simon," Ralph said, smiling. "We might just figure this out somehow. Can you try to get some for me and Piggy?"

"I'll try."

"Thanks."

Moments after Simon nodded politely and headed off, Jack walked over to Ralph, looking down at him. "Get up," Jack ordered. "I'm taking you with me."

"Where are we going?" Ralph asked as he stood.

"I'm not answering any fucking questions," Jack said impatiently. He grabbed Ralph's arm and all but dragged him out of the camp, heading into the trees in the direction of the fresh water pond.

 **XX**

"Seriously," Ralph asked. "What is this about, Jack?"

"I guess not even ripping your fucking back open could shut you up," Jack grouched. "Fine. I got a question for you. You wanna eat tonight? You want Miss Piggy Tits to eat? And how about the little ones, Ralph? Roger killed a pig on his own just now and we're gonna cook it. But nobody eats unless I say so. You want them to eat? Do you wanna eat?"

They were getting within sight of the pond now. "Well, yes," Ralph said. "I don't get it."

"You will." Jack unwrapped his loincloth and carelessly tossed it aside. Naked, he looked like an incredibly buff eighteen-year-old more than ever. Ralph wasn't even remotely comfortable glancing below his waist. There was no way Jack was that big before.

But he was hard. Why the hell was he-

"No, Jack," Ralph said immediately.

"I haven't had sex in months," Jack hissed. "Fucking you in the ass will have to do. If you don't fight, everyone gets to eat, even you, you worthless piece of shit. If you fight, it happens anyway and anyone who's not a Hunter starves."

"You bastard, Jack," Ralph said, his voice and his body shaking. "There was a monster. It was you."

"Whatever you say," Jack said. He forced Ralph to get on all fours and pulled down the other boy's underwear. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

 **XX**

Eric had just come back from the latrine trench and was sitting by himself when he noticed Sam heading his way. He looked up, not sure how to greet his twin. They'd been on poor terms for almost a month, and did not even look as much like twins anymore. That wasn't Sam's fault- or Eric's, come to think of it. The whole thing had just happened.

"Ralph says you didn't fake that thing with Larry the other day," Sam said.

"I didn't."

"Thanks."

"About time," Eric snapped, his temper flaring. With effort, he calmed himself a little and added, "I mean, no problem."

"Ralph says you guys are all short-tempered and stuff."

"We are. We need to fight and run and do pushups and stuff. We all get mad really easy."

"We were always the same," Sam said. "Now we're different. It's weird."

"I didn't know it would happen," Eric insisted. "I didn't. I'd want us to stay the same, too. I don't know how this all happened."

"Well, what do we do now?" Sam asked, standing there uncertainly. "It's weird not having my twin around." He cracked a smile. "Can I have some of your muscles? We should share."

"If I could, I'd do that," Eric said sincerely.

Just then Jack strode back into camp, sitting down beside Roger as the fire got going. The tall blond looked more satisfied and relaxed than anybody had seen him in weeks. He leaned over and said something to Roger, who grinned wolfishly and high-fived the Chief. As Eric was about to wonder aloud where Ralph was, the former leader of the cadets half-walked, half-stumbled out of the tree-line. His hands kept wandering back to the seat of his red underwear, and Eric could have sworn he saw blood trickling out. Wide-eyed and dazed, Ralph went to the hut he'd been confined to before and didn't come out.

"What was that about?" Sam asked. "I bet Jack beat Ralph up again or something."

"He's never gonna leave him alone," Eric said. "Jack listens to Roger too much."

"Roger just wants to hurt people."

"Even some of us are careful around him," Eric replied. "So, are you still mad at me or what?"

"I don't really remember what we were mad about."

"You said I was a dork."

"You called _me_ a dork."

Eric felt his temper flare up, felt his aggressive, competitive instincts urge him to tackle Sam and prove his side right with a wrestling match. But his twin couldn't handle that, not with him, not anymore. So he made himself calm down and just said, "I don't think you're a dork."

"Then I guess you're not a dork, either."

The twins wound up sitting beside each other as Andy and Rapper began cooking the pig Roger had killed, talking about some different things, catching up. When Eric went up to get his food, he got an extra slice of meat and some fruit for Sam. Nobody challenged him feeding Sam, and Eric thought he might have heard Rapper talking with Jack, having assumed Eric had taken Sam as his personal slave. The idea infuriated Eric, but he resisted the urge to beat Rapper up over it. If those dorks wanted to think he'd enslave his own brother, then fine. If it meant he'd have an easier time getting food for him and looking out for him, whatever. That was just fine.

 **XX**

Simon had watched Jack take Ralph out of the camp, and acting on a hunch, Simon had followed. He saw the whole thing. Jack, obsessed with humiliating Ralph and unable to keep his sexual urges satisfied on his own, had raped Ralph by the pond. Simon had wanted to help, had wanted to take Jack down and stop it, but Jack would have yelled and Roger and the others would have come running. The time for a fight wasn't now. So Simon had done nothing. He just sat there and watched, then left as silently as he had approached once Jack had finished. Simon returned to camp without being noticed, just as he'd left without being noticed. Even when buff and strong with so much muscle, Simon was quiet and easily overlooked. It helped him here, because he was a witness to something Jack didn't know he had seen.

Whippings, slavery, and now rape. How long would it be before Jack wanted someone else to force himself on, or Roger decided he wanted to rape Ralph as well? The longer things went on, the quicker they seemed to descend further into barbarism. Simon had held out some hope that Jack would retain some of his small but earnest redeeming side, the joker and the preening romantic. The kid who underneath it all was not evil, just a moral coward. That side of Jack seemed to be on the verge of being lost forever.

Seeing Jack talking with Roger, Simon knew Jack had told his best friend what he'd done, and that Roger approved. Maybe Roger had encouraged Jack to do it. Maybe Jack had still been reluctant to go that far, and Roger's counsel had helped him summon the will to carry it through. It had happened once. Simon was absolutely convinced it was going to happen again. And Ralph might not be the last non-Hunter it happened to.

The time was coming for Simon to go against the current- he could see that now. Jack was Chief and had no intention of changing his course. He was the current, and Roger was his trusted advisor, telling him which way was the best one to go. Simon would not be able to go along with all this much longer.

But Jack was never going to let anyone leave. His will was one of steel, and disobeying it held promises of starvation, of forced labor, of whipping, and death. Anyone who wanted to get out of here needed to do it without being seen. By the time Jack or any other loyal Hunters noticed anything, they needed to be gone. Long gone.

The question, then, was how that was going to happen.

 **XX**

Roger had never been enjoying life so much as he had since he'd landed on this island. Here, he was stronger and healthier than ever, his natural superiority over ordinary boys plain to see. Here, with Jack having taken charge as Roger knew he would, Roger could do what he wanted. Whipping Ralph, the boy who'd gotten in his way so many times back at Bunker Hill, was a revenge sweeter than anybody could imagine. Roger was so pleased with Jack, with how he was toughening up, shedding those little doubts, those elements of weakness and hesitation left in him. He'd agreed to make the non-Hunters slaves. He'd let Roger whip Peter and Ralph.

And now he'd finally listened to another piece of advice Roger had given. When it was just the two of them, Jack had been complaining about how jerking off was just not doing it, he needed more. There were no girls, no women. So a few days ago, Roger had suggested Ralph. Jack had recoiled at the idea, at first. But Jack's mental addiction to sexual satisfaction, combined with his lust for power and his desire to crush and humiliate Ralph any way he could, proved too much for what little conscience he had to handle. Jack had dragged Ralph away from camp and come back looking like he'd relieved a hell of a lot of stress, while Ralph looked dazed and shell-shocked.

Now, having taken a swim all the way out to one of the two small isles for some serious exercise again, the two power-packed teenagers were lying on their backs, water lapping at their feet, staring up at ten thousand stars.

"So," Roger said. "I just gotta know how it went."

"I told you, it went good."

"I want the details, Chief."

Jack sighed happily. "It was better than I imagined. God, he was tight."

"Ralph's ass is so tight you could put a lump of coal up there and have a diamond in a couple weeks."

"Roge, how come you can talk when it's just us? Around everybody else you hardly have anything to say."

"I don't waste time talking to losers. You're not a loser. So I talk to you."

"Thanks for giving me that idea," Jack said gratefully. "I feel so much better now. I was going crazy. It's still not pussy, but… it sure is better than nothing."

"You think I could try him out?" Roger asked.

"What, you mean- you wanna rape him, too?"

"I got needs, just like you. And I always wanted to rape somebody."

Jack shook his head in amazement. "You'd have made a great SS trooper, Roge."

"Sure I would've. Hitler was awesome."

" _I'm_ awesome," Jack retorted.

"So I can have him?" Roger asked with hungry eagerness. "I want him tomorrow."

Jack shrugged one broad shoulder. "Sure. Take him after dinner."

"Thanks, Chief," Roger grinned, already looking forward to it. "Trust me. We'll break him in a few more days, tops. He'll crawl around and beg from us. We can use him until we get out of here and then we'll go say hi to Arianna."

"You're a badass, Roge," Jack said. "And you're right. I'll get us out of here. Once we go home every one of us Hunters will be getting so much we won't even be able to keep up with it."

"You can have her first," Roger offered.

"Who? Arianna?"

"Sure. You can fuck her first but I want her next."

"How are we gonna be able to do that more than once each?"

"Threaten her. Scare her. We'll make her keep quiet. So you get to have her, and so do I. But you get her first, Chief. It's only fair."

"Okay, Roge," Jack agreed. "Sure."

Roger smiled. "It's too bad we didn't win up on this island with her, Chief. We could've gotten her pregnant a bunch of times and built a little kingdom here."

"Yeah," Jack agreed, fascinated just thinking about it. "I wish that had happened. If I could, I'd stay here forever and just never go back."

 **XX**

After swimming back to the main island, Jack and Roger made a headlong sprint through the dark to camp. They arrived just as the fire was starting to die down, and Jack realized he hadn't posted night guards yet.

"Uh, Roge- did you have anyone on guard?" the blond asked, looking around.

"No, Chief."

"Damn. Fuck, I was sure I picked somebody."

"I'll do it, Chief," Simon said, approaching with Eric, the both of them looking like the teen bodybuilders they were. "Eric and I want a whip each, along with our spears. Then we can do some punishing right away if someone tries to run."

"He's turning vicious," Roger said admiringly. "They both are."

Jack nodded. "They're Hunters. Every one of us should be vicious. This isn't kindergarten."

"Fucking-A it's not," Eric agreed. "So do we go on guard?"

"Sure," Jack said. "Roger, get 'em those whips and let's get to bed."

 **XX**

Simon and Eric had thrown together a plan while Roger and Jack had been away. They hadn't been able to let anyone else know; there was too much of a chance someone would hear. So they waited as the night grew deeper and darker, making sure that no one would be up when the two of them tried to free a few of the boys.

The little ones were going to have to be left behind, as would most of the other boys. The more they involved in the escape, the greater the chance some movement or sound would give them away. The best Simon could come up with was to work to free the rest of the boys as soon as possible.

Eric found Sam coming back from the latrine trench and convinced him to stay out there. Simon got Piggy out of the shelter he was in and simply lifted him up and carried him over his head to where Sam was waiting. Piggy was not as quick or quiet as Simon; not even close. So Simon simply moved him where he needed to be on his own.

Then it was time to get Ralph. Simon cautiously moved into the deposed leader's hut- Jack let him have his own as a form of banishment and isolation, not as a privilege- and gently shook his shoulder. As he did, Simon marveled at how thin and weak even Ralph was. He was stronger than Jack and was in great shape for fifteen. But next to Simon, next to any of the Hunters, he was a hopeless runt. Simon could scarcely believe that eating some berries had made such a difference in all this.

"What?" Ralph exclaimed, sitting up sharply. He must not have recognized Simon, because his eyes widened in panic and he tried to shove Simon away and cover his rear at the same time. Simon felt guilt again at what that meant. Ralph, abruptly woken up, recognized at least the build of a Hunter and feared he was going to be raped again. Simon knew he could have stopped it, or at least tried. He'd have to make up for that somehow.

Acting quickly, Simon clamped a hand over Ralph's mouth to silence him, and moved back toward the entrance so the moonlight shone on his face. Ralph's panicked struggles slowed, then ceased, and he looked at Simon curiously.

"We're getting out of here," Simon whispered. "Can you go with us?"

Ralph nodded.

"Okay. Let's go."

 **XX**

It was hard to persuade Ralph to leave without everyone else. He bargained hardest to bring the little ones, but the chances of getting them out of here on the first night, in a high-risk stealth operation, were not good. Simon pointed that out as they huddled in the trees, and Ralph just kept coming back to "We gotta get 'em out. We gotta get 'em out of here. We have to do something."

But the boys already in on the plan were all here, and going back to get more risked the whole thing. Simon had to spend a few precious minutes reasoning with Ralph, holding back his short and volatile Hunter temper. Just when Simon was ready to knock Ralph out and carry him away, Ralph looked back at the camp and sighed. Then he said quietly, "Okay, Simon, let's go."

Moving quickly and quietly, a handful of boys left the camp, heading further inland as fast as they dared go. They each held a few pieces of fruit they'd taken from the food storage; it was not as much as any of them would have liked. The light of the moon was cut off as the fugitives passed under the trees, and after a few moments they had completely vanished into the dark.

 **XX**

Jack woke up better than he had in all this time since he'd landed here on the island. He was well-rested, well-fed, and in charge, and now, he had finally found a way to satisfy his sexual needs. Deprived of any chance to charm his way into a pretty girl's pants, Jack was forced to look for a substitute. As always, loyal Roger had shown Jack the way, had told him what he needed to do. Jack knew he still hesitated at times that Roger wouldn't, but Roger seemed willing to be patient and served his chief without question. Jack's groin still ached, a dull, happy sensation. The rape had been that good. Jack's mind was cleared now, and he could think straight again.

Arianna had been in Jack's dreams last night. With this super-powered body and the inches he'd added between his legs, Jack had blown her away. The prissy, arrogant Dean's daughter had been sweating and gasping under Jack in that bed, begging for it. Satisfying his needs temporarily had only increased Jack's lust for the Lovejoy girl. If he ever got out of here, Jack was going to court her relentlessly. He would be as charming and romantic as he could, and she'd see. She'd see that letting Jack have what he wanted was best for both of them.

The muscular blond adolescent woke up hard, as he always did. Jack got up and glanced at Roger, who was almost as powerfully-muscled as Jack was, and wondered how many pregnancies the two of them would have caused by now if there'd been a good number of pretty girls on the island. Roger was right. If they were here, if even one was here, they wouldn't be given a choice about that. The needs of the men came first.

Jack strode confidently through the trees, naked except for the loincloth wrapped around his waist. As he reached the freshwater pond, Jack tugged at the leather and dropped it, then started tugging at himself. He got behind a tree and closed his eyes, thinking of Arianna. In his mind, Jack undressed her slowly, one item of clothing at a time. Then he was there in that bed again, having her, having the beauty who had rejected him again and again, only to make Jack want her even more. Out near the cove, far away, Jack thought he heard someone calling for him, but he didn't pay attention. He was busy. Unless Arianna was here asking for him, Jack didn't care. This was too good, too enjoyable. Everything was going Jack's way, and he was lost in a fantasy of pleasure. He'd bother with his tribe later.

Once Jack finished, he sighed and leaned against the tree for a moment. Then he grinned, looking at himself, and he jumped in the freshwater pond. As he swam back and forth, his powerful muscles propelling him effortlessly through the water, Jack thought of his blond hair, now grown to almost shoulder-length. Maybe he'd keep it this way. Fuck Bunker Hill's regulations. He'd sure as hell have it like this on the island, as long as he stayed here. Jack loved being the Chief. Ralph, all noble and lame, had never made things as fun as they now were. He'd insisted everybody be equal and that there be rules and crap. He hadn't even made the boys who were clearly his inferiors serve him, like Roger had talked Jack into doing with the non-Hunters.

And Jack's disciplinary system- whippings, hard labor, beatings, cutting of food rations- were already producing a system of blind and total obedience to the Hunters. There was order, and that was something Ralph could never promise. No discussion happened at the camp now. You did what you were told, and each cadet was only worth something if he could contribute to the camp as a whole. Jack's way would keep everyone safe as long as they had to stay here. Maybe not that comfortable, not unless you were a Hunter, and especially not if you were Ralph. But safe all the same.

"Jack!" Andy called, "Jack!"

"Yeah!" Jack shouted, still swimming around the clear waters of the pond. Andy sounded kind of worried, but Jack wasn't. He was the Chief. Nothing worried him now.

Andy, his mane of red hair flowing behind him, ran into the clearing. He'd clearly run all the way here, but he wasn't breathing hard. He clutched a spear tightly in his hand, and Jack thought for a moment of how far he had come. Andy's pale skin, like Jack's, had given way to a handsome suntan, and he looked sixteen now- a very buff and athletic sixteen, years ahead of his actual age. Andy was as strong and confident as any Hunter on the island, and nothing bothered him easily. Jack wondered for just a moment if there was a problem worth his concern, after all.

Jack swam over to the grassy side of the pond and heaved himself up. He stood and faced Andy, hands on his hips. "Well, what is it? What the hell's going on?"

"Roger sent me out here. He says you need to come back to camp."

"What the fuck for, Andy?"

"It's Ralph, Chief! Him, Piggy, Sam and Eric, Simon- they're all gone!"

 **XX**

The big mountain, the dormant volcano that had created this island a long time ago, had more than that one cave on its slopes. Simon and Eric led their group to another, up steep, difficult, and increasingly rocky terrain while the Hunters and their newly-designated slaves slept. It was narrow at the entrance, which was positioned in such a way that you could easily miss it if you weren't looking carefully at the vines hanging over it and along the rock wall around it. In fact, it had taken Eric stumbling in the dark as they ascended, over a mile from the first cave where they'd found Captain Benson, to find it. Eric had misjudged the terrain and nearly rolled his ankle as he set his foot down on a rock, then fell right through when he put his hand against the hanging vines to steady himself.

Simon, after making sure Eric was okay, had started looking further into the tunnel, and the surprisingly-generous space it opened into after going around a curve. The boys, though tired and frightened, had quickly settled into the cool, damp place, thankful they'd found somewhere that Jack, as he and his group swept the island today- no one among the escapees doubted that was happening- would almost certainly never find them. They were sheltered from wind, rain and Hunters alike here.

They'd all gotten a few hours' rest, and what little food they'd made it up here with was stored in a small pile. Simon and Eric headed out to watch for the Hunters, insisting that the others stay and be safe. Glad for a chance to rest but unable to sleep now that they were sure the Hunters were out looking for them, the boys stayed up and talked.

Ralph's back continued to experience searing pain, and he was thankful for the cool leaves that Simon had brought into the cave and set out for him to lie on, saying they'd help. The damage from his whipping, agonizing as it was, would heal. Ralph was less sure about what else Jack had done to him. He had never felt such humiliation in all his life. He wanted to cry and curl up and hide from everyone, but he also wanted to kill Jack and do it as slowly as he liked. Ralph found himself talking about going out and finding berries, and his voice grew heated as he envisioned becoming as strong and muscular as the Hunters were. He wanted that for himself, wanted it more badly than he could say.

Piggy talked about it too, and in his voice Ralph heard a different kind of hunger. Piggy saw a chance to escape his pudgy, unimpressive body, to be someone that instantly got respect. He wanted to be the one who other people were scared of for a change, instead of always being prey to bullies and macho jerks.

"We can't do that," Sam spoke up, and his voice echoed slightly in the silence of the cave as Piggy and Ralph turned to look at him.

"Why not?" Piggy demanded, sounding frustrated. "Why wouldn't that work?"

"There isn't time," Sam answered. "It took weeks for the Hunters to get like this. We're lucky two of them defected with us. We need to feed Simon and Eric any berries we find. We need to make those two into absolute beasts. We might stand a chance that way."

Piggy and Ralph fell silent, disappointed at their fantasy being turned away. They realized Sam was right. What they didn't realize was that Sam wanted those berries as badly as they did, maybe more so. He hungered for a chance to be equal to his twin brother again, to be powerful and fearless and the idol of every girl. Sam needed that. He would have gladly killed for it right now. But he just knew he was saying the right thing. His brother and Simon were the protectors of the other three boys now, and they would need every berry they could find.

"I won't go back," Ralph said, staring at nothing, a haunted look in his eyes. "I won't go back. I want those berries. I want to fight. I wanna kill Jack."

"You need to do planning and stuff," Sam said. "You can be our strategy person or something."

"I guess," Ralph said.

"That'll matter too," Piggy said. "Even with two Hunters we can't outfight them. We'll have to outsmart them."

"They're not gonna leave us alone," Sam said, wondering, once again, how he was so sure of any of this. "We're gonna have to fight sooner or later because Jack's gonna keep looking. We need to be ready for that."

"We will be," Ralph said, heat coming into his voice. "I'm not letting that motherfucker do anything to anybody again."

Sam and Piggy looked at Ralph with some curiosity, wondering where this distracted, nervous but angry Ralph had come from, why it was that Ralph kept away from everyone and didn't like being touched. Even now he sat by himself, and while he'd let you come near him, he obviously didn't like it and didn't ever seem fully relaxed. Maybe that was just the tension of everything going on affecting him. It wasn't like Sam or Piggy were that calm, either.

The Hunters didn't find them on the first day. Eric and Simon eventually came back with a little scavenged food and the two spears they'd taken from camp, reporting that the Hunters had passed by far below, and had searched the cave that Benson had made it to at the mountain's base. But Simon and Eric agreed that Jack was not going to give up looking just because he didn't find the fugitives today. The Hunters would go out again tomorrow, and they might even launch a search at night. The escapees would have to be constantly on guard and noise would have to be kept at an absolute minimum in the cave.

This was especially important since there were some sounds of wind within the cave, hints that it had more to it than this main room and the path to the outside. If you made too much noise in one area, it would be broadcast to any other places in the cave. Until they could fully explore it, the boys would have to be extra careful. For all they knew, there might be some kind of underground link to the cave Benson had been found in. They needed to ensure that the Hunters would never suspect, never guess where the escapees had found refuge. If forced to flee from here, they would never get this near-perfect a location again.

After scavenging for some food in the last hours of daylight, the five boys tried to get some rest. Simon and Eric were badly deprived of sleep, so Sam and Piggy volunteered to stay up for the first shift during the night. Ralph, after a brief mental struggle to calm himself and convince himself he was safe and could sleep, lay down on the cool stone floor. His body, long punished and deprived of food and rest, soon began to relax. Ralph was exhausted and needed to sleep, so he let his guard down. The last thing he saw before his eyes shut was Piggy carefully and methodically counting and arranging the food they'd scavenged on some big tropical leaves, and Sam, skinny and small, sitting upright, spear in his hands, a determined look on his face as he guarded the fitful sleep of his brother.

* * *

 **A/N: 6-25-2017. Completed another chapter! Hope my readers like it. Thanks to AM83220 for his steadfast encouragement and support.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Jack was angry. No- he wasn't just angry. He'd passed that point a while ago. He was fucking pissed off.

After those little snitches had escaped in the middle of the night, just up and left without anybody noticing, Jack had exploded. Anyone- anyone at all- suspected of knowing about the escape in advance was punished. Anyone Jack didn't like was punished. Anyone who looked at him wrong was punished. To make the point that he was absolutely in charge, the master of all that he surveyed, Jack had ordered Roger to whip all the little ones. It had taken a bit of time for them to understand that they were no longer people, but property. But the whippings, withholding of food, and some 'persuasive talks' alone with Roger had gotten the point across. The little ones didn't think much anymore. They obeyed.

Right now, Mikey, smallest of them all, was sitting at Jack's feet while the self-declared king of the island sat in his home-made throne. Put together from bamboo and wild pig leather by Roger and Andy in tribute to their leader, the throne sat at the base of some palm trees, shading Jack from the sun as he looked out at the ocean. Jack glanced down, irritably kicked at Mikey, who squealed in pain and promptly began to kiss Jack's feet. He cried and begged, and when Jack didn't hit him again, he picked up the palm leaf he was supposed to be using and resumed fanning the Chief with it.

What fucking good were slaves if the best one hadn't been broken in yet- and was out there in the jungle, defying him? What good was being Chief if everybody in the camp knew Ralph and those other traitors had run off and Jack hadn't had them all killed yet?

A week. They'd been gone a fucking _week_. Jack was sure they would've been killed by some horrible spiky monster by now, or that they would have come back to camp, out of food and begging for access to the pond Jack had the boys guarding. And that was something else that made Jack mad as hell. Instead of having an awesome time and doing whatever they wanted, his Hunters were having to stand guard all the time. All the goddamn _time_.

The 'normal' boys, neither Hunters nor little ones, were decent foot soldiers, able to handle basic work. But you couldn't trust them completely. They were still inferiors. Jack wasn't at all happy with them, because they were in that gray area- more useful than a little one, but not as fun to kick or order around.

Jack remembered taking Ralph out of the camp, and fucking him by the side of the pond. After he'd had his fun a couple of times, after he'd finished up on Ralph's back that last time… Jack had almost felt human again. It had calmed him down and relieved some serious stress. Now- Jack wanted to kill just about everything he saw. He woke up angry and went to bed angry. Everywhere he went, everywhere he looked, he saw Ralph, mocking him. Getting higher rank, getting more glances from Arianna. Running away from camp like a scared bitch and getting away with it.

Over the past week, Jack had done a thousand pushups, situps, flutter kicks and jumping jacks a day. He was in the finest physical condition he'd ever been in his life. He was huge downstairs; Jack could not even imagine what a legend he'd be when he and the girls of Earth got re-united.

But it wasn't enough.

Not even close.

Jack, who had always hated it when someone dared to criticize or defy him, was now absolutely beside himself with fury. He stalked the camp, back and forth, for hours at a time. He'd go and search the jungle without saying a word, and always, several of his Hunters would join him on the search. Jack deliberately ran the little ones ragged, punishing them for the smallest of mistakes. He had threatened to kill John, one of the older inferiors, for getting in his way once.

Even the Hunters were testing Jack's patience. Jack had blown up at most of them at least once by now. He'd yelled at all of them for letting Ralph and the others get away in the first place, ignoring, as he always did, any mistakes he might have made. Jack never, ever admitted fault. He never took responsibility for something. Because he knew the truth so many people missed: he was perfect. He never made mistakes. Everyone else was just fucking stupid and kept fucking things up. That was why he had to have harsh discipline around here, why he'd had to bring back slavery to keep order. The losers of this dump had to know who they were.

The Hunters had been forced to go hunting all the damn time, but not for animals. They had to go and look for Ralph and the others, every single day. And every day they came back with nothing, making Jack angrier. Jack worked them harder still, testing even their near-infinite strength and endurance. And while none of them complained or questioned his orders- blind obedience and total loyalty were things Jack demanded absolute compliance on- they had become wary of him. Jack's already-short fuse was barely even there at all. He needed no excuse, none, to explode at somebody. So unless they had something to report, they stayed away unless Jack spoke to them.

However, even the tense, irritable nature of their Chief could not alter their physical needs or nature. The Hunters still ran, wrestled, and exercised with limitless energy. They boasted and fought and bragged, and became more manly every day. Jack, had he been in a better mood, would have been proud of them. But somehow, he managed to still be kind of proud of Andy, who had turned into one hell of a badass teen and a damn good soldier, and Roger, who was the very definition of those things, and Larry, who loved Jack blindly and wanted to do anything he could to please him.

Roger and Larry were the only two who still dared to approach Jack anything like freely. They were his favorites and everyone knew that. Angry as Jack was, he still held his temper in check when dealing with them. They were the only ones who had never, ever failed him. They were the best of all his Hunters.

It seemed like hardly five minutes went by before Larry came around asking Jack to help him exercise better, or to tell him more about girls or, Larry's favorite topic, sex. Even with his Chief in a bad mood, even with the shit that was going on, Larry just had to ask Jack, his hero and idol, some more questions about fucking. And Jack, much to his own internal surprise, obliged Larry every time.

Roger had fewer questions, and he didn't hero-worship Jack quite that way. But he was always giving the very orders Jack would have wanted given; he ran the camp and kept things in order. Jack prided himself on finding the right tools when he needed them. In Roger, he had his hammer. So what if Roger was forcing himself on some of the boys when they were alone. Or if he was torturing the little ones, doing- or making them do- all kinds of sadistic things. Roger enjoyed some cruel shit. But Jack, honestly, did not really care. The world was divided into two groups of people- winners and losers. And if you didn't have what it took to be a winner, guys like Roger would make sure you knew you were a loser. Plain and simple.

The brown-haired teen was tall and extremely fit, a model of youthful strength and stamina. Like all the Hunters, he walked around camp naked except for the leather loincloth tied around his waist. Jack knew that when the time came to kill the traitors, Roger would be there, getting it done. He was bloodthirsty, and Jack knew that Roger felt angry and cheated about Ralph escaping. Just before he took his first turn and raped Ralph himself, Ralph escaped. Roger didn't like to be defied any more than Jack did. When the time came, there would be payback.

But how? How was Jack going to make it happen when he didn't even know where the little cunts had gone?

It was infuriating. Jack had made it all go so perfectly; everything had happened just like he'd wanted. It looked like he was going to have it all his way, with no one daring to defy him, and even neutral, thoughtful Simon was starting to come around. And then this happened.

Jack knew now that he'd been too patient with them. He should have had Ralph broken a while ago, should have whipped and beat and starved him until he was begging for mercy. Piggy, too. And Simon and Eric- those two were the worst part of this whole thing! Ralph, Piggy, Sam- they were all weak. Good for nothing but slaves. But Eric and Simon had been Hunters! Fucking Hunters! They'd had everything and thrown it away! It made Jack want to explode just thinking about it. Those two would be killed for their treason, oh, yes.

But before they died, Jack would see to it that they suffered. They would suffer so much that death would seem like a gift when it finally happened.

Jack was so busy making his plans for revenge, visualizing what he and Roger would take turns doing to Ralph when they finally caught up with him, that he missed Larry approaching him, spear in hand. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head low, so low that his chin rested right in the narrow space between his two chiseled, well-developed pectorals. His whole body rippled with powerful muscle. Not like Jack, who looked like an extremely fit eighteen-year-old wrestler and football player, but like an 8th grade bodybuilder. Larry spoke quietly, reverently, but Jack heard him immediately.

"Chief, may I speak?"

The one blond Hunter sat up and regarded the other. Mikey, still sitting at Jack's feet, looked thoroughly terrified, but he kept fanning Jack and didn't say a word.

"Speak, Larry. And stand up."

Larry stood, looking Jack steadily in the eyes. "We'll find them, Jack. And when we do, we're going to hurt them. Then we're gonna kill them."

"Just like that?" Jack asked, irritated, amused and impressed all at once. Mostly impressed.

"Just like that," Larry answered. He stood confidently, with his chest puffed out. "Say it and I'll do it, Chief."

"Go fuck Ralph in the ass."

"Can I, when we catch him?" Larry looked and sounded eager. "I mean, I haven't- done that. Yet."

"It's not like getting pussy, Larry."

"But it's better than nothing, Chief," Larry said reasonably.

Jack laughed, despite his bad mood. Larry, blindly loyal and adoring, was like a kid brother. he was becoming what Jack wanted his real kid brother to become. Maybe he would, still, if Jack ever saw him again. But Larry was the boy that Jack was mentor to right now. No question, Larry worshiped Jack and was begging for the chance to do his bidding. It helped Jack's mood, and Jack liked that.

"Okay, Larry," Jack said. "You can have him after I do, and then after Roger does."

"I gotta wait that long?"

"You'd still be going first after the Chief and the XO," Jack pointed out.

"Yes," Larry said. "But…" he shifted on his feet. "I gotta have someone. Right when we catch them."

"How about Eric?"

Larry's pale face, steadily tanning in the Pacific sun like the rest of his barely-clothed body, lit up like a Christmas tree at that suggestion. "Could I?" he asked breathlessly.

"When we catch him, yeah."

"So Eric, then Ralph? I get to have both of them?"

"Sure."

Larry bowed. "Thank you, Chief."

"Enough of the fucking ceremony, Larry," Jack said irritably. "Thanks, but I'm not like Ralph."

"But you're the Chief," Larry said. "Everyone should call you that. Guys gotta know to show you respect."

"Well, since I'm the Chief, I say you can call me whatever you want."

"Can I ask you anything I want? Jack?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Can I show you how many pushups and situps I can do, and stuff?"

Jack stood up and kicked Mikey out of the way. The small boy cried out, falling onto his back, and Larry chuckled. Jack, ignoring Mikey, looked at Larry. "How about we do some pushups together? Try and beat me."

Larry shook his head with absolute conviction. "Nobody can beat you, Jack."

The blond teen smiled. "Right on, Larry."

 **XX**

Roger was sitting by the fire next to Jack, the loyal right-hand man as always, as Jack continued to brood and think into the evening. Thanks in part to Larry, the Chief wasn't sulking as much. Maybe the bad mood he'd been in all week would finally start to lift. Roger was angry too, but he didn't think Jack's sulking made much sense. It didn't solve anything. But the boss was the boss, and Roger had sworn to serve this blond, arrogant master a while ago. So long as Jack was worthy of his respect, Roger would follow him. And these days, Jack was a better leader than he'd ever been before. He thought and acted more ruthlessly, and was steadily taking in more of Roger's ideas. He was making plans to share Arianna with Roger when they got back, whenever that happened.

It was good Jack was willing to be generous like that. Roger had planned on forcing himself on her anyway, just as soon as he got the chance. Now, it looked like he wouldn't have to.

"Master," Peter whined from off to the right.

"What?" Rapper barked, sounding like an irritated seventeen-year-old.

"Please," Peter begged. "Please let me go."

"I told you to hold it."

"I can't."

"I can't what?" Rapper asked dangerously.

"I can't, Master," Peter quickly corrected. He was bent over, his face pale and sweaty with pain. "Mikey needs to go too. Please let us."

"Please," Rapper said mockingly. "It's all I ever hear from you. Please, please, please. You're a fucking slave. Quit bitching."

"Please, Master," Peter whispered. "We'll be fast. I promise, Master."

The heavily-muscled black boy thought about refusing- Roger was absolutely right about it being goddamned hilarious to make one of these little whiners shit their pants- but finally waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. Go before I change my mind. And get back here fast or you'll be punished worse than last time."

"Yes, Master," Peter said, hurrying away with little Mikey.

"You're going soft, Rapper," Roger observed. "Pain is the only teacher. It's the only way a slave learns."

"Yeah," Rapper said, "but I don't really want to see those two crappin' and pissin' all over themselves while I'm trying to eat."

 **XX**

In spite of the recent escapes, Roger thought that things were going pretty well. So some slaves had gotten away, and some Hunters had turned traitor and run off with them. All that did was make clear who hadn't learned their place yet. Roger knew his. It had been serving as the right-hand man, but now, he was taking pride in bringing Jack up to his level, making the blond more like him. Jack was making a lot of progress.

For one thing, he wasn't skinny anymore. His former lanky build had been something of an annoyance to Roger, who disliked the fact that Jack let himself be weak enough to need a bodyguard and enforcer. Even though Roger relished that role- it was a great excuse for putting fear into kids, and hurting them- he had never understood why Jack had done so little about that shortcoming. Now, Jack was broad-shouldered, a teen bodybuilder. No sign of his bony-shouldered former self remained. Jack could probably have killed anyone in this camp if he wanted to, even Roger, though that would've taken a hell of a fight. But the fact that he could do that meant Roger's respect for him was much more genuine than it had been before.

The rape was another thing. Jack had hesitated a little about that before. He would have gotten around to it, one way or another, with Roger's steady help and encouragement, but all these changes in the past few weeks had done wonders for Jack's willpower. He had raped Ralph and felt no remorse. He had enslaved the little ones and the few other 'normals' and didn't show any remorse about that. Jack ruled absolutely, and Roger loved it. He was so damn proud to see Jack man up like this. If only Arianna had been here for the whole show. That prissy little princess would have been taught her place and then some.

Roger knew it was only a matter of time before the bitches who'd run off and defied Jack were found. Sooner or later, they would be seen and located. This island was big, but not big enough that a couple of escaped slaves and traitor Hunters could hide in it forever. Roger glanced at himself, at this powerful body that hundreds and hundreds of reps of every possible exercise per day was building. He had been strong before; even before coming to this island, the boys at school had feared Roger's muscle, his strength. Now… he was so much more. He was unstoppable. Roger couldn't wait until they caught up with Ralph. He was going to get it in more ways than he'd ever imagined…

All it would take is figuring out the spot where the idiots were hiding out. And it was one spot; Roger was sure of it. They had to be frightened and trying to lay low, as well as too weak individually to survive on their own. Roger was looking forward to when they found the cave, the spot in the forest that they were hiding in. The slaughter that would follow, especially if the Hunters found their enemy first. It was going to be beautiful.

"Took you long enough!" Rapper yelled, as the two little ones hurried back to the camp.

"Shut up, Rapper," Jack snapped. "Christ. I'm trying to fucking think."

"Sorry, Chief," Rapper replied immediately. He looked like he'd wanted an excuse to punish Peter, who still had the scars from his last whipping. But instead, he let Peter and Mikey run past to where they huddled with the rest of the non-Hunters at the edge of the dark, near the pig pen.

Roger watched them go, and reminded himself that their escape now could be more than made up for later. And it didn't have to be those two specifically. The little ones always traveled in pairs, scared as they were of the island, the jungle, the monster. Roger delighted in terrifying and tormenting them. It gave him a great deal of satisfaction. He'd stay up tonight and wait out there for a pair of the little ones to show up, and then he'd have some fun. Threaten to kill them, threaten to drop them into the trench. The usual. It just never got old.

"We'll find them, Jack," Larry said confidently. "They won't get away with this."

"No chance of it, Jack," Roger added in support. "They don't have a chance."

"They're gonna fucking pay for this, Jack," Larry promised.

"Yeah, Larry," Jack said, nodding. "They sure as fuck will."

"Hey, Pablo," Larry called, to the boy who still practically lived out at the fire on the hill. "you keep that fire going, yeah? Otherwise Jack's gonna let me whip you and then kill you."

Pablo, who had come down to the camp to get his small share of food, bowed his head. "Yes, Master."

Larry laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

Filled up with energy from the meat they'd eaten, the Hunters worked out furiously before heading to their huts and going to bed. Roger had done well over a thousand pushups by the end of the day, and he took immense pride in how many he could do with so little effort. He was going to savor this period, this time before the Hunters found the prey that was hiding from them out there on the island. It was gonna be so much fun when this thing really got going. Roger could hardly wait.

 **XX**

Ralph had to wait until twilight before he and Sam could slip out of the cave they'd taken refuge in, a good ways up the mountain. It was the only way they could stay out of the Hunters' vigilant eyes, avoid being caught and almost certainly killed. Ralph had especially good reason for wanting to stay hidden, knowing that Jack and Roger had to have worse things in mind for him. They'd kill him- but not right away. Ralph didn't have any intention of letting them have the satisfaction.

The usual hunting and foraging was still going on, but the Hunters were looking for them. There was no doubt of that. They hadn't just given up and gone home after the first day or two, and they sure as hell weren't gonna send up a flag of truce and decide to live and let live. There was gonna be a cold day in Hell before Jack ever went for something like that.

Once the sun started going down, though, and the range at which even the Hunters could see them started to decrease, Ralph and Sam crept out of the cave. They were careful, extremely careful, completely surveying the whole area before they advanced out of the cave, and before they started heading down to search the forest.

It took a while to thoroughly sweep the hillside, especially when you had to operate as a guerrilla unit, always needing to stay hidden, to keep a lookout for the enemy. They needed food of any kind- they could always use more on hand- but what they needed most was the damn berries. They needed as many as they could get.

Back and forth, back and forth. It went on for what seemed like forever. Ralph didn't know how long; nobody had a watch. But eventually, Ralph spotted one of the plants with the distinctive red berries attached to it. He knelt, picking them off, but forgot to say anything to Sam. In fact, Ralph forgot the whole plan right then. He was too busy with the overwhelming urge to throw all the berries he could in his mouth.

 _I could do it_ , Ralph thought. _I could eat them all and just keep going and find some more, and eat those too. Then I'd search this whole fucking island and eat even more. And then I could go to that goddamn camp and let Jack find out how it feels to get fucked in the ass four times. Let him find out how it feels to get raped. The berries, that's all I need. Some berries, and some goddamned fucking PAYBACK_!

"Sam!" Ralph suddenly called, standing up. "Sam!"

"Yeah?" Sam asked, hurrying over. "Oh, hey, you found some!"

"Sure did. We better take these back."

"Yeah. My brother needs them. So does Simon."

"They're our best chance," Ralph said. He made himself say it, so he didn't forget and siphon away berries that the two Hunters who'd defected to their side badly needed.

"They sure are," Sam said, nodding. He looked almost disappointed, and Ralph understood. Sam wanted to be equal with his twin again, but couldn't for the same reasons.

The only way they were getting out of this alive was if some grownups came along and stopped the whole thing… or if Simon and Eric could win the fight for them. There was no other way. No alternative. Ralph couldn't let himself forget that. He had to stick with the plan.

 **XX**

When Ralph re-entered the cool, damp cave, his eyes had to do some adjusting, as it was almost dark. He immediately felt safer in here, felt sheltered from the threats posed by potential tropical weather, plain exposure to the elements… and his classmates.

He still hadn't talked about what Jack had done to him. Ralph didn't plan to. He felt so crushed with shame some days, so humiliated that he'd let Jack do that to him… but the shame was now mixed with hate, with a burning desire for revenge. And that was why he and Sam were bringing back these handfuls of berries. So they could all have some goddamned fucking revenge.

Simon had his face down, looking at the stone floor. He was doing one-armed pushups at lightning speed, one after another. The coat of sweat covering his bare upper body- an extremely buff upper body- suggested he'd been at it a while. Piggy, sitting on Simon's broad back- probably as some extra weight- looked green, even in the dark of the cave. The rapid up-and-down motion was actually enough to make him seasick.

Eric came in behind them, fastening his loincloth. "Yeah? What'd you find?"

"What were you doing outside?" Sam and Ralph demanded, surprised.

"Jerking off," Eric shot back. "It's not like you dorks found me anyone to fuck. And I'm not 'supposed' to jerk off in here."

"We just don't wanna get caught," Ralph said.

"And I wanna get laid!" Eric barked. "Godddamn it! Why couldn't any girls have gotten dumped on this island with us, huh?"

"Hey, it's okay, man," Sam said cautiously. "We, uh, found you guys some berries."

Eric stayed angry for a moment, but finally sighed. "Fine. Whatever. I guess I'll take some."

Ralph had barely held up the handfuls he found when Eric snatched them both and threw them in his mouth. He smiled for a moment. "Damn, that's good."

"Got some more berries?" Simon asked from across the room. He looked up, saw Sam and Ralph, and stood, unceremoniously dumping Piggy onto the floor.

"Ouch!" Piggy exclaimed.

"Then be more careful," Simon said carelessly. "Jesus. Gotta do every little thing myself- gimme some fuckin' berries!"

Just like Eric had done with Ralph, Simon snatched the berries away from Sam and ate them. The abrupt jump into adolescence had made a big impact on him and on Eric at this point. They didn't look much like preteen boys anymore. They looked several years older than they really were, and were so fit it was as if they'd been aiming to be bodybuilders all their lives. Sharply-defined, strong abdominal muscles, shoulders that wouldn't have looked out of place on a NFL quarterback, biceps as big as Ralph's neck, two slabs of muscle on their chests… these two were damn strong. It was unbelievable.

The good thing was, they were in superb shape, and they'd get even stronger the more berries they ate. But…

Simon and Eric were both on a hair-trigger lately. It took next to nothing to set them off. Eric and Simon talked and thought about sex constantly, and continued to be frustrated that there was nobody for them to "have fun" with. Ralph felt secretly glad that they weren't resorting to Jack's alternative. But even so, they were restless and irritable, especially with having to hide in the cave all the time. They needed to be outdoors, running and hunting and exercising. And even if they stood by their choice to go into hiding like this, they didn't like it.

The gentle, thoughtful Simon still existed, but he was even quieter than usual these days. In his place was a pushy and demanding Simon, who worked out tirelessly, grew angry at almost anything, and probably would cheerfully rape a girl right now if given the chance. Ralph worried about that. Even if they survived this and got back to the world, Simon and Eric were going to be trying to fuck every girl they saw.

Not to mention the fact that the mess hall at Bunker Hill would never be able to keep up with what those two would need to eat in a day.

After working out for another hour, Simon and Eric decided they "needed a break" and headed out one at a time. Ralph didn't like it- he got nervous anytime anybody left this cave, where at least they were safe- but unless you wanted those two jerking off in here, you had to let them go outside. Besides, of all the people in here, they were the most equipped to take care of themselves. And once they were both back, Simon and Eric calmed down a little and the group was able to go to sleep.

Simon took sentry duty for the first shift; he and Eric handled that duty extensively, despite the efforts of Piggy, Ralph and Sam to convince them they could do the job as well. The two defected Hunters might just have been unwilling to really trust anyone weaker than themselves with their own protection, but it might also have been their way of showing they did care… despite their brusque, short-tempered manner. That was what Ralph hoped for, at any rate.

 **XX**

The cove was pretty quiet tonight. Walking a patrol along the beach, Andy paused and stretched, both hands gripping his spear. He was supposed to have Larry with him, but the Chief's favorite protégé was currently jerking off in the trees. He said he needed it, and Andy knew none of the Hunters were kidding when they talked about that. You really, really did need it. Actual fucking would have been way better, but they didn't have any girls available. Maybe Andy would try out one of the slaves sometime. Roger said it wasn't bad to do that. Andy wasn't so sure, but he didn't want to say he wasn't so sure.

Roger was not the type you wanted thinking badly of you. He was an icon of strength and manliness, and never forgot or forgave anything. Roger was cold. He'd kill you as soon as look at you. Rape? That was easy stuff for Roger. Andy had a feeling he was probably doing something- or someone- on the side until Ralph was caught.

Oh, the day they caught up to Ralph would be one that kid would never forget. Jack had put the word out that Ralph was to be taken alive. That was very important. He had to be alive so he could experience burning wood being pressed against his skin. To feel it as he got raped by every Hunter who wanted a turn. Ralph was going to be whipped until his throat gave out from all the screaming. Only when he was completely broken would he be killed. Jack and Roger had a plan all worked out.

Andy, who still remembered urinating in Ralph's stupid face the other day, nonetheless felt a tremor of fear as he thought of all the stuff Jack had in mind for Ralph and the other traitors. Jack had always been so cool when they were all at Bunker Hill. He was still kinda cool now, but he was also a fucking dictator. He could do way worse than have Roger pay you a visit. There were no limits on what Jack could do anymore. He could have you executed if he wanted.

The redhead was just glad none of this shit was gonna come down on him. He was in good standing with the Chief, and with the shape he'd been getting into lately, Andy knew he was one rescue away from getting laid every day for the next twenty years. If his fucking upper body was not enough, what Andy had inside his loincloth would sure as hell do it. He still felt the ache down there from his own time out in the trees earlier tonight. Oh, yeah. Coming back to the world would be awesome with Jack leading them.

And if that meant having to hide a few corpses on the fucking island and say they "went missing" or some shit, so be it. Andy was just glad it wasn't him Jack was after. Those cowards who ran away with Ralph were all dead.

Looking out to sea, Andy took in a breath, enjoying the feeling as a breeze blew in. It was really picking up in the past hour or so. Clouds were moving in, too. But Andy wasn't concerned. Certainly not enough to wake the Chief, because right now, you had to be damn careful about that. Andy had no desire to get whipped. Or to get his privates cut off, like Roger was planning to do to Simon and Eric.

It was great getting to go around on this island with almost no clothes on. It was not only practical- their old uniforms and undergarments had pretty much disintegrated by now in the heat and humidity- but it felt good. Andy liked it. He got to show off this awesome physique he'd worked so hard to earn, and he was getting a hell of a great tan.

Larry came out of the jungle, still naked, dick swinging between his legs. Andy winced and said, "Larry, put your damn loincloth on."

"I think there's a storm coming," Larry replied in the voice of a high schooler, setting down his spear and picking up the loincloth. As he worked to fasten it around his waist, he said, "There's wind coming in. And look out at the sea. Flashes. Lightning, I bet."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Seriously, look."

Andy glanced out there, and as he did, the wind caught his mane of red hair and tossed it around. It probably looked pretty cool, honestly, but Andy couldn't get a VHS tape made of it, now could he? And at any rate, he did see lightning flashing out there. The clouds, even in the dark, were clearly big and ominous-looking now. How had Andy missed that?

Just then, the wind picked up, a great gust that rocked Andy, strong as he was, on his feet. Larry swore as his loincloth was ripped out of his hands and blown away. He tried to go after it, but just then rain began to fall.

"Shit," Andy said, as much out of fear as anger. This was bad. If a storm showed up now and it was not that bad but Andy raised an alarm over it, he'd be severely punished for waking Jack up. If a storm showed up and it really was bad and Jack only found out when his shelter collapsed on top of him, "severe" would be a mild word for what the Chief would have done to him.

Larry might get away with it, since Jack was treating him like a kid brother these days. He'd been telling Larry about what blowjobs were, for Chrissakes. But Andy's good standing would not be enough to spare him if he messed up right now.

"Goddamn it," Larry said, still unhappy about losing his loincloth.

"Wake everybody up," Andy said. "Wake 'em up!"

Larry took one look up and a torrent of rain came down. He cried out in fear and raced for the shelters. Andy was right alongside him.

"Jack! Jack, wake up!" Larry and Andy said in one voice. Larry set his hands on the Chief's broad, muscular shoulder and was shaking it again and again.

"Wha-?" Jack started, sitting up. "What? What the fuck is it?"

"Storm, Chief!" Andy yelled. The wind was making it hard to talk.

Roger sat up, glaring menacingly at the two sentries. "You motherfuckers better have a good reason for-"

He didn't get any farther, because the carefully-made roof of the shelter was peeled clean off, like God had reached down and just picked it up and tossed it away. Wind and water poured in, and the walls started to falter before the four Hunters' eyes.

Jack leapt up, then, and suddenly he was wide awake, screaming orders. Andy raced with Larry from one shelter to another, waking everyone up who wasn't awake already.

"Come on, you dumb motherfuckers!" Jack screamed. "Follow me! Hunters, keep track of the slaves! If any of 'em get away I'll whip you myself! Leave the stuff! Fucking leave it, let's go!"

Crying and whimpering, the little ones were pushed and shoved into a group where they huddled together. As they hurried after Jack, Patterson pushed and slapped them until they were all right in front of him. Once that was done, he positioned himself so his back shielded them from the worst of the wind.

Andy looked for Larry and found it was raining so hard he could barely see ten feet away. The blond kid came running out of the gloom, spear under one strong arm, a bunch of food in his arms.

"You people better move it! You hear me, pussies?!" Roger bellowed from the rear of the group. "Get to the cave! Go! Get moving!"

With Jack and Roger both hollering like a pair of drill instructors, the group moved inland, toward the base of the mountain range that dominated the island. Andy had no idea how long it took; just that it took everyone a lot of yelling to keep together and get the little ones not to just huddle low to the ground. Finally, Jack was yelling, "Up here! Up here!"

Glancing upward, rain lashing at every inch of him that faced into the wind, Andy saw Jack standing at the mouth of the cave, the one that they'd found Captain Benson in. Andy hurried forward, slipped in mud, caught himself on his spear. He staggered up the slippery, wet rock and into the darkness of the cave. In moments, a whole mob of boys stumbled in after him. Larry came in, yelling at everyone to get out of the way. He found a corner that was off to the side and away from the wind and rain, and carefully put down the food he'd managed to save.

The Hunters quickly restored order at Jack's direction. The slaves were told to shut up, and they shut up. They were herded into a corner. First the Hunters were counted, then the property. Andy was glad they hadn't lost anyone that mattered, or any servants.

The wind blew rain in for the first few feet of the cave, but beyond that, it was safe. Jack and Roger got the space furthest into the cave, which was not even six feet wide in some places. Roger had them count weapons, and it looked like each Hunter had a spear, thanks to Rapper grabbing some extras.

Andy sat down and leaned against the cool wall of the cave, listening to the rain and wind howl outside. A glance to his right showed how close it was. Two times now, water had proved too strong for even the mighty Hunters. First the waves had taken Tony, and not even Jack or Roger had been able to go and get him. Now a storm was more than they could handle. Andy was awed. How powerful did something have to be to top what the Hunters could do?

Once Jack saw everyone was present and accounted for, he went to Larry, who was trying to rub the water out of his hair. "Lose your loincloth or did you just decide to show off?"

"Nobody's got a dick this big, Chief," Larry said, looking up. Jack made as if to undo his own loincloth, and Larry immediately lowered his head in submission. "I mean, except for you, Jack."

"We'll get a new one made for you," Jack promised. "Thanks for saving some food for us, Larry." He looked at Andy. "Good work. But you warn me faster next time."

"Yes, Chief."

Jack gave instructions for Rapper and Patterson to guard the entrance, and ordered that no one was to leave the shelter of the cave. Then he went back to bed, as did Roger. Pretty soon, everybody was going back to sleep. The little ones, frightened and exhausted, stayed close together. The steady drumming of the never-ending rain lulled them to sleep. Andy felt a moment of sympathy for them. They were just little kids. They didn't know what was going on. They just wanted to go home. They had no understanding of the need to punish and kill Ralph and the other traitors, or the need for meat or the need for pussy.

They didn't like being slaves. Andy knew that. But he couldn't do anything to help them, even if he felt like it. They were weak, pathetically weak, and the Hunters were strong. The strong did what they could around here, and the weak suffered as they had to. That was how things worked. Andy knew he was a fair master to Tex. The little kid only got punished when he screwed up. That was plenty fair. This wasn't Ralph's show anymore, where everybody was equal or some shit like that. Andy had always thought that was a dumb idea, anyway.

While he was still contemplating that, Andy fell asleep, immensely grateful that they'd known this place of shelter was here. They might have been outside for hours otherwise, stumbling around in the wind and rain. In a dream that night, Andy bowed not to Jack but to the waves, acknowledging their power. He admitted they were mightier than he was, mightier than even Jack and Roger. And that was something to be in awe of.

 **XX**

Much to Jack's annoyance, the storm did not end by morning. In fact, it actually got worse. The Hunters were safe inside the cave; not even the worst of the weather could get to them. But hiding and being safe did not interest Jack. His instinct had always been to argue, to fight, to push and shove and yell until he got his way. He could do nothing against a storm, though, and that infuriated him.

Unable to leave the cave or do anything about their predicament, the Hunters stayed put for the whole day. With barely any room to move, unable to run anywhere, they did pushups and situps by the hundreds to keep themselves busy. The slaves were used as weights for a while. With food in critically short supply, the slaves got nothing. The Hunters had eaten it all before they even thought of the kids they'd decided they owned.

Further uphill, in another cave, Simon and Eric were about as angry as Jack and the rest of his Hunters were. Trapped inside a confined space, unable to do anything except exercise and eat, Simon and Eric were in a foul mood all day. Piggy was quite grateful to be safe from the storm, as were Sam and Ralph. But they found themselves wishing it would end very soon, just so they could give Simon and Eric something else to do.

But the tropical storm was not interested in either group's wants or complaints. It was indifferent to the squabbling between the two tribes of boys, and continued to blow wind and hurl rain down on the island. The shelters that had been built on the cove were knocked down like they weren't even there, and waves of staggering height crashed down on the site, pulling remains of the shelters out to sea. Entire trees were felled by the storm's might, and still the storm remained hungry for more.

 **XX**

Roger opened his eyes, and the first thing he noticed was the silence. After the racket of the past day, this was almost disturbing. He sat up, looking around. Andy and Rapper were at the cave entrance, peering out cautiously. Was that the damn sun shining?

It was the sun! Roger hurried to the cave entrance, looking out at the soaking-wet, messy landscape of the island. Jack was there after a few moments, stepping out beside Roger, looking around.

"When did it stop?" Roger asked.

"Same kinda time the sun came up," Andy said. "It just happened. I can't believe it."

"I sure fucking can," Larry said, coming out of the cave.

"Jesus," Jack burst out. "It's about time! If I had to spend one more day in there, I was gonna kill somebody!"

"We need food, too," Roger pointed out.

"We're not eating the little ones, Roger," Jack replied. "Not yet anyway."

"It's always an option, Chief."

Jack turned and yelled at everyone who was still inside the cave. Blinking at the sunlight, the remaining boys emerged, relieved that the storm was over. Roger couldn't wait to get back to really messing with the little ones, especially Mikey and Peter. Pablo, who had literally begged Roger on his knees to get let into the cave during the storm, had a real nice favor he owed Roger for. The tall, muscular boy was looking forward to receiving it.

"Okay, Roge, Larry," Jack said. "Let's get 'em back to the pond first. I'm fucking thirsty."

Larry and Roger immediately started shouting, giving orders, and the slaves quickly formed up and started marching. Guarded on all sides by the Hunters, they didn't dare make a break for it. They didn't even complain, despite not having eaten in a day. As they got going, Roger threw a glance over one broad shoulder, checking to make sure none of the little ones were dawdling behind, trying to sneak off. He didn't see any of them, but Roger did notice something higher up. There was a person up there! Roger froze, hunting instincts taking over. The face he saw vanished after only a second, but Roger had seen enough. He'd seen that fat boy hurry back inside the other cave entrance, the one higher up the mountain. The one the Hunters had missed.

Roger smiled to himself as he followed the others back to the pond, waiting for the moment when he'd tell Jack the news:

He'd figured out where Ralph and the others had run to.

* * *

 **A/N: 10-29-2017. A new chapter!**

 **The narrative provided by AM83220 was, as usual, a great help in getting this done. He sent me that narrative back in early September, so there was a fair bit of a delay on this one. Now the story is written out as far as the narrative goes. I will be working with AM83220 to figure out what we will do next. Feel free to leave a review; feedback is always welcome.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Had the camp not been in ruins, had everything not been almost as much of a fucking mess as it would have been had Ralphs till been in charge, Jack would have been pleased with himself. Enslaving all the non-Hunters had created a clear, two-class system where one group ruled and the other served. The little ones were learning that they got punished less if they obeyed faster, so they were practically killing themselves to rebuild the camp at the orders of the Chief. Mikey, that little whimpering runt, was useless at just about everything, so Jack had him standing nearby in case he wanted water or something.

Jack knew what the fuck he wanted. Apart from Ralph's head on a pike, he wanted Arianne Lovejoy, the dean's daughter, the beauty who only grew more desirable every time he saw her, every time she said no. She wouldn't say no once she saw this body Jack had now. He'd been stunning before, no doubt about that, but the blond looked like the teen bodybuilder he was at this point. Between that and his natural charm, Jack would get what he wanted. Something stiffened inside his loincloth just thinking about that. That was one thing about being a Hunter. You never, ever stopped thinking about fucking. But, once again, Jack had largely been that way before, too.

Pablo came stumbling out of the woods, a rather dazed look on his face. He wiped at his mouth a couple times, looked at Jack, then suddenly averted his gaze. He had probably remembered that slaves did not look directly at the masters, and certainly not at the master of them all. Pablo's stupid little cross was still around his neck, and he clutched at it as he hurried away, heading back toward the hill where the fire was kept.

Roger appeared a moment later, broad-shouldered and strong, looking flushed and pleased with himself. He headed right up to Jack and smiled.

"I got good news, Chief."

"Oh, yeah?" Jack asked. He wasn't in a good mood right now, but he'd hear Roger out, like he always did.

"I tried out Pablo. He also thanked me for letting him take shelter in the cave."

Jack wanted to laugh. Roger had fucked Pablo in the ass and gotten a blowjob. Well, good for him. But Jack was in a hurry to get the camp rebuilt, and he couldn't appreciate this quite as much as he might have if the storm hadn't fucked everything up.

"Was that it?"

"Oh, no." Roger looked quite pleased with himself, and he couldn't seem to stop grinning. "Chief, you're gonna love this."

"What the fuck is it, Roger?" Jack almost shouted, his short temper flaring up. He had never liked people who wasted time. He wanted no riddles, no stories. He wanted people to get right to the fucking point and not bore him, and the idea of Roger beating around the bush right now was intolerable.

"It's the traitors," Roger said, grinning still. "I know where they are."

That got Jack's attention. It got Andy's too, and Larry's. They all asked the same thing at once. "You do?"

"They're uphill, inland. There's another cave we didn't find, higher up the side of the mountain. They're in there."

"And you had to fuck around with Pablo before telling me that?" Jack asked incredulously.

Before Roger could respond, Larry shouted "Let's go kill 'em, Jack!"

"Yeah!" Andy shouted. "Let's go, Chief!"

Jack didn't even get time to answer before the rest of his Hunters were howling around him, screaming for blood, for revenge. The thrill of the hunt and the exultation of victory was addicting, and they loved the addiction so much that they didn't care if it was a pig or a person anymore. Just so long as the hunt was worth it, and this one most certainly would be.

"Then let's go!" Jack screamed at them. They loved that. Here was a leader who not only understood his men, but was one of them. Jack had always known he was a better leader than Ralph, more deserving of rank and prestige at that dumb school, and here was the proof.

But even as his Hunters whooped and cheered, Jack realized he couldn't just take them all and leave the slaves on their own. They'd inevitably try to run away, and even if they didn't, they wouldn't get anything done. Shit. Jack knew none of his Hunters would want to stay when there was killing to do, but someone would have to.

"Patterson!" Jack barked. "Rapper! I need you two to stay here."

"What?" Rapper blurted out. "Why-"

"You wanna rephrase that?" Jack asked.

"Uh, well, Chief, I'd like to go kick some ass."

"Someone needs to stay and make sure the slaves don't go anywhere."

"But why me? Why not Larry?"

"Because Larry's not staying," Larry answered for himself, crossing his powerful arms over his broad chest. He had grown up fast on this island, and while Rapper was stronger, more muscular, there was a good chance Larry might come out on top in a fight. He certainly didn't lack for motivation. Right now, Larry looked ready to turn on anybody who tried to force him to stay and watch over a bunch of worthless slaves while his Chief led the Hunters on the best hunt yet.

"Rapper," Jack said, "Think about how much ass you kicked when they tried to escape last time. These slaves know they can't fuck with you. And with Patterson with you, there'll be two of you." Jack grinned. "You guys can do anything you want to anybody who tries to escape. Anything. How about that?"

"Well," Rapper said, shrugging one muscular brown shoulder, "it's what I was gonna do anyway."

The Hunters laughed, and Jack nodded. "There you go, man. And when we overrun their position in a couple minutes, I'll try and keep somebody alive so you can kill them yourself."

"Thanks," Rapper said appreciatively. He turned and kicked Peter, sending him a few feet through the air. The small boy hit the sand and started whimpering, but scrambled quickly to his feet. "What're you standing around for?" Rapper yelled at all of the slaves. "Get back to work!"

"Yes, Master," Peter said, and the others echoed him. Not Luke and John, though, which was interesting. They approached Jack and bowed their heads.

"Can we come with you, Master?" Luke asked.

"Why?" Jack asked, simultaneously annoyed and amused that a slave was even asking that.

"We want to be Hunters, too," Luke said. "We'll fight for you like we are. Let us prove ourselves. We'll kill for you, Chief. Anything you want. And- Andy's been talking about The Wave. We're with that, too."

"The Wave?" Jack asked.

"It's this awesome idea I got, Jack," Andy said eagerly. "The waves out there, like the ocean? They're the only thing that's got more power than us. I think we should use that somehow. Maybe once we get back, we can make that the name of, you know, a movement or something."

"Maybe we can," Jack said. He looked at Luke and John. "You two stay here and work. I better not hear you complained about anything."

Then Jack turned to the Hunters who were going with him, all five of them. They were going to kill five guys. Ralph, Simon, Sam and Eric, and Piggy. Traitors, all of them. Dead men, all of them.

Technically, this would be an even fight. But when you considered that the enemy had only two Hunters, versus Jack's force, which had six, it wasn't even at all. Jack knew Piggy would never fight. He was too much of a coward, barely even worth killing. Sam was not much better. Ralph was nothing. None of them were, not even those pieces of shit who'd betrayed Jack. They were all about to die.

"All right, Hunters," Jack called. "Let's go! Let's go kill those motherfuckers!"

The Hunters roared out their approval, and they were right in step with Jack as he led them toward the side of the mountain.

 **XX**

"They saw you?" Simon shouted the minute Piggy came into the cave and announced the bad news. "You _stupid_ little cu-"

"Come on, Simon, take it easy!" Ralph interrupted.

"Oh, _excuse me_! Dumb shit just gave away our position, my mistake for not being cool with it!"

"Simon's right! We're in some deep shit because of you, Piggy!" Eric barked.

"Well, I'm sorry," Piggy said, looking both flustered and intimated as two heavily-muscled boys yelled at him. "Please stop yelling. They might hear you."

"What're we gonna do?" Sam asked.

"We gotta get out of here," Piggy said. "This is a big island. We should leave right now and go somewhere else we can hide."

"And then what? Where do we go except somewhere else, once they find us at the next place? And the next place?" Simon asked. "I say we fight."

"I'm up for it," Eric said instantly. "I can't wait to get some action."

"It's not that kinda action," Simon remarked.

"It's something."

"There's more of them than there are of us," Piggy insisted. "We got two Hunters and they got, like, eight."

"Jack's gonna have to keep somebody at the cove," Simon remarked. "He won't trust any of the non-Hunters to do it."

"It'll be six or seven," Eric said in his rumbling teenager's voice. "Almost enough to take me on."

"How can you be like that at a time like this?" Piggy asked. "We're thinking about survival here, not some macho stuff."

"I wanna live too, Piggy!" Simon shot back. "Best way to do that is to kill these motherfuckers as quick as possible! We run away, they'll just come after us."

"I can't fight," Sam said, sounding desperate and unhappy. "I'm-I'm useless. You and Eric're gonna have to do everything."

"We'll protect you," Eric assured him.

"We should just take everyone and disappear," Piggy said again. "We honestly shouldn't have stayed this close to 'em anyway."

"Well, I didn't see you bringing this up before!" Eric said impatiently.

"Look, what did I say?" Simon broke in. "What'd I say? It's us or them. It's gonna happen sooner or later. Might as well be now. They aren't ever gonna leave us alone. They weren't before, anyway, but now that they've found us once Jack won't ever stop until he finds us again."

Ralph found himself agreeing with Simon and Eric. He sat there, listening as the other boys argued around him, and the thought of fighting looked better and better. He thought of the rape, how it haunted him in his dreams. He was back there by the pond, getting raped by Jack because, hey, someone had to fill in for the girls and help Jack meet his 'needs'. Yeah, great reason right there. Ralph wanted to kill Jack and he didn't care if it got done fast or slow.

"We should fight. Whatever we do, we gotta get these motherfuckers."

The other boys turned and stared at him.

"Like Simon said, we're gonna have to fight sooner or later. Might as well be right now. But we better be clear on something, guys. If we fight at all, this is to the death. Jack isn't going to show us mercy. We've got two Hunters against eight. We can't be trying to be nice and knock them out. We're going to have to kill them. Especially Roger and Jack."

 _Fuck me in the ass, will you? I'll get you, Jack. I'll get you if it's the last thing I ever do._

"Well, Colonel, I didn't know you wanted to join the men." Simon said it with some mockery, some contempt, but also some approval.

"I just want to get this over with."

"Okay," Sam said. "Okay. So we fight. But what do we do? They outnumber us."

"We'll have to be smarter than them," Piggy said.

"We can't just set up to fight them head-on," Simon said. "We better set up some kind of ambush. We've got some spears, and there's a lot of fucking rocks."

"We could throw them at them," Sam suggested.

"Yeah, we could," Ralph agreed, nodding. He liked that idea a lot. He found he loved the mental picture of a good-sized rock caving in Jack's skull. Ruining that handsome face he loved so much.

Simon and Eric started drawing lines in the dirt on the cave floor. They were hurriedly talking, swapping ideas back and forth.

"Well, what do the rest of us do?" Sam asked.

"Anybody can throw a rock, Sam," Eric said.

"I think I saw a bunch of them above the cave entrance. On the mountainside."

"Yeah, we're gonna need 'em, too," Eric replied.

"I bet we could do more if we had, you know, more time to work with," Sam said.

"Oh, you think?" Eric asked. He looked at Sam and seemed to realize how that had sounded. "Sorry. We're just gonna have to set up for this as best we can."

"Then we'd better get moving," Ralph said. "Jack's not going to wait very long once Roger tells him about this."

 **XX**

Simon might have changed greatly in temperament since the berries had begun to take effect, but as the boys got ready to fight, it became clear his views were not so different. Simon worked tirelessly to dig holes on the side of the mountain above the cave, taking advantage of the rich volcanic soil that had accumulated in countless places over the years. Eric was doing the same, and each of the powerful fighters that had defected from Jack's Hunters made a point of reassuring the others and reminding them of what the plan was.

Enough rocks lay on the side of the mountain that the piles made for Sam, Piggy, Ralph, Simon and Eric to use looked natural. They had spears, but the plan was to use those only if they didn't manage to drive the Hunters away. Hopefully, they would be able to stay hidden and make it seem like it was just a bunch of rocks coming down off the mountain.

Simon did not seem entirely concerned about what would happen if the Hunters weren't all fooled- or killed- by the rocks. "Eric and me have something in mind," he said, when Ralph asked him about that. "Eric and me got some extra spears set up, about a hundred feet up, in this little depression there. We fall back there and hold them off. They'll have to charge up to get us, and we'll have the high ground."

"But we're not going to be able to run up the whole mountain if they overrun us there, too," Ralph said.

"I know that, Ralph," Simon replied.

It was strange. After so many weeks of being tense, irritable and brusque at best with the others, Simon and Eric had calmed down remarkably. Even with his burning hunger for revenge, Ralph was terrified. He knew Piggy was barely holding himself together; the fat boy's survival instincts were telling him to run, run, run, and here he was staying instead. Sam was just as scared, but he refused to even consider leaving Eric's side.

As they made final preparations, Eric said, "You can go, if you want. Stay out of the way and you'll be safe."

Sam just shook his head. "I'm not letting you do this yourself. I go where you go."

"Even if that means-"

"Yes," Sam said with surprising strength. "Whatever happens. We go together."

Eric stopped his work to hug his brother, and the twins were suddenly coughing and sniffling as they embraced. They didn't have long, so they soon got back to work, but Ralph was happy to see the twins really remembering how close they had always been.

A few more minutes of work, and they had the holes dug as well as they had the time for. Simon moved quickly and quietly up the mountainside to check the fallback position, and then returned, nodding to Eric and Ralph. "It's good."

"We're gonna settle this, guys," Ralph said, once the holes were dug and the rocks placed. "We're gonna take them down. Then we're gonna go free the others at the beach."

"We're out to kill them," Simon added. "Everyone remember that. It's us or them."

Sensing time was running out, Ralph turned things over to Simon, who had tactical command. They all took their positions and lay as low as possible in their holes, waiting for word from Simon to start rolling and tossing rocks down on the Hunters.

"You know," Sam whispered to the rest of them, "this school trip really sucks."

No one saw a reason to contradict him.

 **XX**

There was no discussion for a plan of attack amongst the Hunters, no real briefing before the mission started. There was no need for one. They had the advantage of strength and numbers. They were the best fighters on this island, and they couldn't be beaten. So this was not even going into battle or anything so dramatic as that. It was a hunt for a pest, an extermination of a nuisance that had been barely tolerated until now.

Jack led the guys uphill, looking eagerly for the first sign of the fugitives. Oh, they were going to be so sorry they had ever helped Ralph. There was going to be a slaughter in a minute or two. But as much as Jack looked forward to that, he hoped there would be someone they'd be able to knock out, or better yet, someone stupid enough to surrender. They'd take prisoners if they got the chance, just so they could make it worse. Jack knew Roger would enjoy tormenting anyone they managed to take alive, and there were so many ways it could happen. They'd devise something special for whoever it was that they managed to capture.

This was going to be so much fun.

As they headed up past the first cave entrance, Jack turned to Roger. "You take point, Roge. Lead us right to 'em."

Roger grinned and wordlessly moved up front. After just a couple more minutes of climbing, Roger pointed and the rest of the group saw another cave entrance, just coming into view.

"Hey!" Jack called out. "We know you're in there, girls. Come on out and suck some dick and we'll let you live."

No sound came out of the cave. There wasn't anyone in sight.

"I mean it," Jack shouted. "I'll let anybody live who comes out and gives up now. This is your chance."

Nothing.

"I bet they pissed themselves and ran for it the second they realized we were coming," Larry said.

Jack smiled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "That's a good bet, Larry."

Larry beamed. He idolized Jack, but in a different way than most of the Hunters did. He was like a kid brother, and the more Jack taught him, the more Larry worshipped his leader. It was fun getting to be a mentor. It was going to be even more fun going back to civilization and watching Larry fuck every pretty thing that moved.

When nothing happened after a few more attempts at bullshit 'offers' of taking prisoners, Roger strode forward, laughing. "Those losers probably all ran for it. Watch, guys. I'll check the cave. We'll just have to hunt them down later."

 **XX**

Behind the double protection of the bush and his hole, Piggy waited.

"Easy," Simon whispered, his voice barely audible. "Easy."

No one moved. No one made a sound. Anything at all could give them away. Anything done wrong right now would mean death.

They had to out-think those Hunters, and this ambush, if it worked, would go off without the bad guys even knowing it was more than just rocks rolling down a mountain. If.

Piggy could hear everything, every sound. His heart hammered in his chest. He had never felt so alert, so intensely aware of everything around him. Knowing you might be dead anytime now did wonders for the senses.

Through the leaves of the bush, Piggy saw Roger moving forward, calling something back to the other Hunters. Piggy didn't catch all of it since Roger was facing the other way, but he was thinking that the Hunters' quarry had already fled. Piggy wished they had, but he had to do his part now that they'd stayed.

"Okay," Simon whispered. "Go."

Piggy took the biggest rock he had, the one shaped kind of like a football, and tossed it. It took tremendous effort, but he managed. For the first time in his life, Piggy prayed that someone would be killed by something he did.

 **XX**

The throw was weak, and the rock dropped just after clearing the bush. It hit the hard stone over the cave entrance, bounced into the air, and the path it took from there could not have been better had Piggy's aim been truer.

Roger had stopped just short of the cave entrance. Just like he'd suspected, there was clearly nobody inside. There looked to be some stuff in there, though- maybe whatever scraps of food the little cowards had managed to hide away. Roger seriously doubted they had any meat.

It was hilarious that these poor, dumb bastards had not even been smart enough to hide a decent distance away. They'd hidden right on the camp's doorstep. They'd fled and barely even gone anywhere.

This whole thing was going so well. Roger couldn't wait until he caught up with those fugitives. Then the games would really begin. Ralph was going to get it in ways he had never-

Crack!

The sharp sound of stone hitting stone made Roger look up, which meant that he got a front-row seat's view as the rock came out over the cave entrance and slammed into his forehead. The ability to bench-press his own body weight couldn't stop a stone from caving in his skull. Roger felt an instant of blinding pain, and then nothing. His knees folded under him and he collapsed like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been severed.

 **XX**

Jack saw what was happening and screamed out a warning, but it was too late. The rock hit and Roger collapsed. The blond leader of the Hunters rushed forward, not even thinking to say anything to the other Hunters. "Roger! Roger!"

The tall, brown-haired boy's powerful muscles, of which he'd been so proud, had been useless against a fucking rock. Jack felt his knees starting to give way as he looked at that face, at the face of the boy who'd been with him ever since he'd arrived at Bunker Hill, who'd backed him always. They'd been partners, the best of friends. Some rock had slipped and rolled down the mountain, and it had killed the biggest badass Jack had ever met, apart from himself.

"Roge," Jack said, his voice shaking. "Roge…"

"Jack!" Larry suddenly shouted, and he sprinted forward, grabbed Jack and threw him with surprising strength. Jack flew a couple feet and landed, still gripping his spear. Larry was already moving as more rocks began to fall, but he took one square in the back right where Jack had been standing. Larry cried out and staggered, but stayed on his feet. He'd managed to go into a crouch, so the rock was deflected off him somewhat.

"Larry!" Jack shouted. "Larry, get out of there, man!"

"We should get outta here!" Steve called out, ducking as a rock bounced, rolled, and almost hit him on its way further down the mountain. "Come on, Jack!"

"Take cover, you dumb bastards!" Jack yelled. "Keep your fucking heads down!"

Just a second after that, Larry pointed and screamed, "It's an ambush! Look! They're up there! They're throwing rocks at us!"

Jack snapped his head up, and sure enough, Larry was right; the rocks were not all rolling down from higher up the mountain. They arced up, out and down, and Jack caught a glimpse of a hand, an arm. He bellowed with rage and sprinted forward. As he neared the stone wall outside the cave, Jack bent his knees and sprang upward. Weeks ago, he would have needed someone else to boost him up. Now, he made the leap himself, and beside him, the others were doing the same.

"Come on, Hunters!" Jack shouted, aiming his spear like it was a long musket with a bayonet on the end. "There they are!"

The fugitives had dug fighting holes in the soil on the side of the mountain. Each of them had set up a pile of rocks, camouflaged amongst the various ones that naturally lay there, and had started bombarding the Hunters with them. They'd gotten Roger. Roger, who had never known fear in his life, who had been Jack's right hand man from the start of his military school career. There was payback coming. A lot of it. And the opportunity was right. Fucking. There.

They were getting up, taking up spears. Piggy, of course, was falling back, hurrying away up the hill. He held a spear, but it was laughable to even contemplate him using it.

Simon and Eric, though; Jack's charge faltered for a moment when he saw them. They were strong, as strong as Roger had ever been, as strong as Jack was. They were ready to fight; every inch of them promised a hard fight, fierce resistance to whatever the Hunters offered. Sam, that little runt, picked up a rock and hurled it. Andy shouted and fell. Steve hauled him to his feet, but the redhead sported a long, bloody gash on the right side of his head, and was a little less steady on his feet as he resumed the charge.

And then there was Ralph. Jack and Ralph locked eyes as the two sides faced one another, and Jack was momentarily startled by the amount of hate he saw there. But he laughed it off, like he always did, because someone always hated Jack Merridew. People always hated those who were better, stronger, more talented, more fit to live. Jack was going to settle things right here.

He dug his feet into the soil, the moss, the rocks, using it all for the same purpose: to propel himself forward as fast as he possibly could. Andy had fallen because of one of Sam's thrown rocks, and Will tripped while avoiding another. Steve had slowed down to help Andy up, so that meant that only Jack and Larry were up front as they collided with the escapees' defensive line.

Simon and Eric brought their spears out, holding them sideways, and there was a loud crack as they sharply swung them and deflected Jack and Larry's initial thrusts. Larry grunted and tried again, and he came incredibly close before Eric smacked the weapon away again.

Ralph lunged forward and tried to stab Jack in the leg, but the leader of the Hunters reacted in less than a second, displaying reflexes that surprised even himself. Under heavy duress, Jack felt time seeming to both speed up and slow down, and Ralph seemed to almost be moving under water as he made an attack that would have likely been deadly back before Jack turned into the virtual titan he was now. Jack moved just enough so the spear missed, going into the ground. Then he yanked the spear from Ralph's hands, threw it away, and replied with a thrust of his own. Ralph sprang back, but the spear cut into his side. It would have skewered him had its aim been only a little better.

Andy, Steve and Will had caught up by now, but Jack had moved farther ahead than the others. Jack lashed out with one hand and shoved Ralph to the ground, drawing his spear forward to kill him. There was no escape this time, and Ralph was going to know pain like he'd never imagined.

"Jack! Jack!" Larry shouted, but it seemed distant, like the other boy was yelling from the other end of a tunnel. Jack turned his head, distracted, and saw Sam, a grimace of absolute focus on his face, thrusting a spear toward his exposed side. There was no time. Sam was too close. Jack couldn't believe it; he'd broken through the line and exposed his flanks, one of the oldest mistakes out there. Now he was gonna get killed by Eric's runt brother.

But then Larry was there, beside him, protecting his Chief. Having thrown himself completely into the attack, Sam buried the spear in Larry's side. Larry screamed, and blood ran from his mouth. Sam ripped the spear free as Larry crumpled to the ground, the end of it coated in red, and turned to Jack, ready to take him on, too.

"Go! Sam, get out of here!" Eric shouted, looking over his shoulder. "Fall back!"

But Sam just sprang at Jack, hellbent on attacking his next target. Jack screamed Larry's name as he stepped back and barely deflected Sam's thrust, but the blond boy had fallen and was not moving.

Not this. Not again. Jack felt rage and sorrow like he couldn't stand. Ralph and Sam were now attacking him together, and Eric and Simon were driving back Will, Steve and Andy together.

"Fall back!" Simon shouted. "Move it! Go, go!"

While the Hunters were still on the defensive, their opponents started a retreat up the mountainside, in the direction Piggy had run.

Jack wasn't about to let Sam go that easily. Not after what he'd done. The little runt was hopping onto his brother's back, just as Ralph was grabbing onto Simon's. The others would be too slow to get away, so they'd planned for a way to hurry things along. How clever. But not clever enough. Jack sprinted forward, pursuing Eric and Sam with a single-minded obsession and hate. He drove the spear into Sam's back as hard as he could with one hand, then reached to pull Sam off his brother with the other. Sam resisted, but ultimately was ripped free, and he fell to the ground, dropping his weapon. He moved, struggling, but Jack clamped his hands around Sam's neck, squeezed and twisted. The crack went off like a gunshot.

"NO!" Eric screamed.

"Keep going!" Simon shouted, forcibly grabbing Eric and pulling him onward and upward. "Keep going or that's gonna be all of us!"

Eric protested, but Simon kept pulling him, and finally he went along with it, crying and shouting, weeping and cursing. Jack wanted to laugh. He had never imagined Eric would be so weak.

"Come on, boys!" Jack yelled triumphantly as he took up his spear, waving the Hunters forward. "They can't get away from us now!"

Andy, Will and Steve shouted and whooped, charging uphill to join their Chief. Jack wouldn't let them get ahead of him, though there was no need to worry about that. As fired up as Jack was, every ounce of strength his body had was being utilized, and Jack had a hell of a lot of strength. All the rest of the Hunters could do was try to keep up with him.

Amazingly, Eric and Simon were doing better. Even burdened by Ralph, Simon was making a headlong charge up the hill, and Eric, having lost his brother, was moving faster still. Piggy was out of sight, and Jack wondered briefly if the fat boy hadn't deserted his 'friends', if he hadn't 'fallen back' but instead bolted for the other end of the island. It would be just like him to do that, and it would do him no good at all. He would be found. There would be no prisoners after this. Not one.

Eric went up and over some rock and disappeared. A moment later, Simon dropped out of sight, too. What the hell was going on?

They were probably hiding in a hole, waiting for the end. Good for them. Jack would gladly make that happen.

As he neared the point where the fugitives had run to, Jack began to slow down. He had been tricked, and he realized it too late. Ralph, Piggy, Simon and Eric all had spears and were aiming them right at him. He brought himself up short, raised his spear to block, but they thrust at him and Jack felt the blows striking home on his chest and right leg. The force of it threw him back, and Jack tumbled and rolled downhill, struggling to stop. His Hunters raced to the top, faltering only a moment as they saw their leader thrown back.

Eric drove a spear right into Andy's right leg, and he screamed, dropped his spear, and fell. Steve swung wildly at Simon, striking him on the side of the head, then at Ralph. Jack was on his feet and charging back up the hill by then, but he got to see Simon heave himself up with his arms and kick Will square in the chest. Will yelled in fear and surprise as he flew out, then down, and he was unable to right himself before he landed. His scream was abruptly cut off, and Jack knew what had happened.

But Steve was there, fighting on. Jack dropped his spear and climbed upward in leaps and bounds. He was not even thinking anymore, just attacking, aiming to kill with his hands, with his bare fucking hands. He climbed into the depression, punching Ralph, then Simon, then Eric. He threw the traitors aside and closed his hands around Ralph's neck.

"There's no escape this time, Ralphie," Jack growled. "Say hi to Benson for me, okay?"

"Go see him yourself!" Eric shouted, and Jack barely had time to wonder what the defector meant by that before Eric, back on his feet again, raised the rock he'd picked up high over his head, and brought it down on Jack's skull.

 **XX**

It was over.

The fallback position on the hill had barely been held. Barely. Ralph, Simon, Eric and Piggy stood, panting, in the makeshift foxhole, weapons in hand. Steve had fallen and was holding his ankle about halfway down, shoved away much like Will had been. Andy lay still, having bled to death from the wound to his leg. Further down, just over the cave entrance, was Will, and some twenty or thirty feet up was Sam.

Out of the Hunters who had launched the attack, Andy, Will, Larry and Jack were dead. Steve was the only one still alive.

Steve didn't resist as Simon pinned him down and Ralph tied his hands behind his back with some vine. They didn't do anything about his ankle, but Simon hauled him down the hill, taking no notice as Steve cried out again and again along the way.

Leaving Steve in one of the ambush holes, the surviving defenders silently and grimly went about the task of rounding up the bodies and bringing them down to the cave entrance, placing them inside where they would have some shelter, some space away from the insects and beasts.

Eric would not let anyone touch Sam. He snarled angrily when Piggy and Ralph, simply wanting to help, came near the body. With a river of tears cutting tracks through the grime covering his sweaty, dirty face, Eric lifted his brother gently in his powerful arms, carefully making his way to a low point on the mountainside. He set him down inside the cave, far from the bodies of the Hunters, then reached a hand out and closed Sam's eyes.

"Well, we did it," Ralph said, surprised at how his voice sounded. Dazed, shaky. Nothing like the voice of strength and confidence that you always thought a leader was supposed to have, even after a battle. He added, "We won."

"Yeah," Eric said, bitterness lacing his words. "We won."

* * *

 **A/N: 12-12-2017. Completed Chapter 9. There will be at least one more, maybe two, but we'll see. At any rate, I had a hard-enough time deciding on which way to go- whether to have Jack's side win, or Ralph's- that I will ultimately be writing both. The version where Jack and the Hunters win will be posted as a separate story. As always, reviews are welcome. My thanks to AM83220 for his continued feedback and support.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

Patterson was doing pushups, thinking about how eager he was to go someplace like… well, this, actually, but with women. A lot of attractive, young women. He couldn't wait. Jack wasn't the nicest guy in the world, but he got results that were hard to argue with. They'd all be getting laid when they returned home, no question. Girls wouldn't be able to stop looking at them.

Being a Hunter hadn't been in Patterson's plans, but hey, some interesting stuff happened sometimes, and not all of it was stuff you'd specifically planned and thought out. You just went with it, because hey, why not? That was how Patterson felt about this. He didn't entirely understand why he was so fired up all the time, so ready to fight and work out and fuck. But he didn't need to understand all of it, not right now. He'd figure it out once Jack got them all out of here.

Rapper, nearby, was taking a break from an almost endless series of pushups and situps. He was restless and irritated, unhappy at being left on guard duty while the rest of the Hunters went on the big attack against Ralph and the leftover fugitives. The shouts and battle cries echoing off the mountain not long after their departure had made Ralph even more displeased. He kept complaining about "missing out on the action," which made him more impatient and foul-tempered than usual around the slaves.

It was interesting how Jack had resurrected that, of all things. Patterson had declined to actually take a slave of his own, but the rest of the boys had eagerly embraced the idea. Patterson still believed in taking care of things himself, and deep down he didn't much like this idea of making the little ones and the non-Hunters into property. It rubbed him completely the wrong way, though Patterson knew better than to tell Jack about that.

Standing up, Patterson looked around at the camp, or what was left of it. Crap still lay everywhere from the storm, both remains of the camp's actual structures and debris tossed all around by the wind and rain. The little ones were scurrying everywhere, working hard to put it all back together. Luke and John were leading and directing them, helping to do the things the little ones were too small or short to do themselves. Patterson decided he'd lend a hand, and began effortlessly doing the heavy lifting that the others struggled with.

"You should let the slaves do it, man," Rapper remarked.

"I'm bored. I could use something to do," Patterson replied.

"I could use someone to do," Rapper retorted. "God, dumped on this fucking island with no women. No girls, no nothing. But we've been making do."

Patterson knew what Rapper was referring to, there. He had declined on that, as well, settling for jerking off two to three times a day so he didn't go crazy. He was gonna have to go do that soon, incidentally.

The pigs had escaped in the storm. There was no sign of any bodies, so they either had been carried out to sea or were loose again on the island. Patterson was disappointed, having been looking forward to some meat, but they'd find some again soon enough.

"So how come the guys aren't back yet?" Rapper asked. He kicked Peter as the small boy wandered by, sending Peter a few feet through the air before he landed on the sand with a thump. "Work faster."

"Yes, sir," Peter said hurriedly. "Sorry, sir."

"What are you supposed to call me?"

"Master, yes, Master."

"Because I own you."

"Yes, Master."

"I can do anything I want to you. You know that?"

"Yes, Master."

"So work harder or else."

"Yes, Master."

The little ones were all tired, and they were desperate for water and food. Patterson knew he had orders, but this abuse was getting a little tiresome. "Maybe we should let the guys take a break in a while," Patterson suggested.

"Let Jack decide that when he gets back," Rapper replied.

"I wonder what's taking so long."

Rapper laughed. "Probably having some fun with whoever's still alive, you know? I hope they caught Ralph. I'm looking forward to taking a turn with him. Aren't you?"

"Sure," Patterson said, although he wasn't. If Jack expected it, he'd probably do it just to keep up appearances. But the desperate measures some of the guys were taking to satisfy themselves didn't strike Patterson as acceptable.

"Are you worried something's happened?" Rapper asked.

"It's taking them a while to get back."

"I told you, they're probably just having fun," Rapper said easily. "They'll be back here in just a couple minutes. Then we'll get a real big fire going or something, and get out of here."

"Yeah," Patterson said. "I'm looking forward to getting out of here."

He cast a glance up the mountain, wondering if there wasn't at least some odd chance Ralph was alive. If he was and Jack had won, Ralph was gonna wish he'd died in the battle. Well, they'd see, one way or another. Patterson was surprised he had any doubts at all. Jack winning seemed certain. But Simon and Eric had run off and joined the traitors, and that meant that it wouldn't be the effortless slaughter it otherwise would've been.

Soon, whoever had won would be coming back here, and Patterson would deal with it, one way or another.

 **XX**

"I'm not going," Eric said flatly. "You guys leave. I'm staying here."

"We need you," Ralph said. "We gotta go take the camp back and finish this."

"Take Simon," Eric replied. "I'm staying."

"We couldn't have won without you," Ralph insisted. "We need you down there with us. Rapper and Patterson might both decide to fight us."

"Good luck with that," Steve said tonelessly.

Eric stood up, walked over, and began to methodically beat the hell out of Steve. He backhanded him across the face again and again, delivering punches that didn't even take any effort. Steve cried out, but Eric didn't stop, and Simon had to pull him off.

"Don't speak again," Eric ordered.

Steve, sporting a black eye, a cut lower lip, a bloody nose and numerous bruises, just nodded to show he understood. Piggy didn't look remotely happy, but he didn't argue. He continued wrapping some leaves and vine around Steve's ankle.

"Okay, fine," Eric said after some hesitation. "I'm going. But we better make this quick. And-" Eric pointed at Jack- "I want him out of here. I don't want him anywhere near Sam."

"We'll take care of it," Ralph promised. "As soon as we can."

"Fine," Eric said shortly. "Let's go."

 **XX**

Eric and Simon led the way down to the camp, with Ralph walking just behind them. They were down to three now, barely outnumbering Rapper and Patterson. And if anyone else at the camp decided to defend Jack's side, they might be in trouble again. Not like before, but, it was close now.

The camp came into view as they headed down past the first cave. Jack's harsh methods had instilled a tremendous amount of discipline, and Patterson and Rapper had clearly overseen a lot of rebuilding this morning. They were probably not even doing any of the work, either.

Ralph was surprised to see that Patterson was doing a lot of lifting, bringing the big logs in and rapidly putting together bamboo skeletons of the new structures. Evidently he'd decided the exercise was better than following protocol, which basically said to let the "slaves" do everything.

Rapper was lazing about near the base of a palm tree. He held a spear in hand, but as he caught sight of Ralph, Simon and Eric, he made no effort to use it. He just stood there, eyes wide, mouth agape. He didn't seem to believe this moment could have ever come.

That was something Ralph understood well. It was something he knew Simon and Eric understood well, and Piggy, too. If Sam were still alive, he would have understood it, too.

"You-you're not supposed to be alive," Rapper said. "Where's the Chief? Where is everyone?"

"They're all dead, Rapper, except for Steve," Ralph replied.

"You fuckin' liar," Rapper shot back.

"How else would we even be here?" Ralph asked.

"But- but-" Rapper raised his spear. "Patterson! Come on, let's get 'em! These fuckers think they killed the Chief!"

Patterson took up his spear, but he didn't raise it. He looked coolly at the intruders. "How are you guys still alive?"

"We outsmarted the Hunters," Simon replied, in that voice that made him sound six years older than he was. "Jack, Andy, Will and Larry are all dead. We had to kill them."

"You guys-you-" Rapper couldn't seem to even speak. "You should be dead! You should all be fucking dead!"

"Looks like we're not," Eric said.

"Wait a minute," Patterson broke in. "Where's Sam?"

Eric stared at him, not saying a word. Patterson caught his expression and nodded.

"Oh." He paused. "I'm sorry."

"Not like I am, asshole," Eric shot back.

"Easy," Ralph said.

"Shut up," Eric replied.

"Eric, take it easy," Simon said. "Patterson, it's over. There's no way we'd be here if Jack hadn't lost. If Jack had won, everybody would be dead except maybe Ralph, and you'd all be taking turns raping him before Jack and Roger killed him."

"Was that the plan for me?" Ralph asked bitterly.

"Yeah," Patterson said, nodding. "It was, Ralph."

"Roger was the first to go," Eric said, clearly relishing the tale. "Piggy dropped a fucking rock on his head. Bang, out like a fuckin' light. Then Larry got it, taking one for Jack. Sam ran him through and was about to take out Jack. Jack killed him. But you better believe we got him, too. Steve fucked up his ankle, so he's still alive."

"You liars!" Rapper yelled. "You fuckin' liars!" He couldn't seem to wrap his mind around what had happened, what had obviously gone so wrong. "Patterson, stop talking to these faggots! Let's kill 'em!"

"It won't make a difference," Simon answered. "We have all the bodies and we can show you."

Behind Patterson and Rapper, the little ones cowered in a huddle, as close to the camp perimeter as they dared get. John and Luke were with them, watching the confrontation closely.

Patterson looked uncertain. "I got orders," he said.

"Orders given by a dead asshole," Ralph shot back. "You treated me okay, Patterson. You don't need to throw your life away over this."

"The Chief's great, greater than you'll ever be, Ralph," Rapper sneered. "I bet he let you come down here so you could pretend you'd won, right before he fucks you up the ass in front of everybody."

"Jack's dead, Rapper."

"So you keep telling me."

"When you gonna believe it?"

"Never! Not from you!"

Patterson spoke up. "I don't see how this happened."

"It did," Simon answered. "Come on, Patterson. Hand things over to us and we'll get out of here and go hit some beaches that actually got girls on them."

The solemn-faced, brown-haired boy actually cracked a smile at that. "Yeah, that's something we need around here, all right."

"Patterson," Rapper said warningly.

Patterson sighed. "I believe them. No way would they all be here if Jack hadn't lost somehow."

"He can't lose! It's impossible!"

"He did."

Rapper tensed, raising his spear. "I can't let you live, Ralph," he said. "Jack gave me orders."

Simon and Eric raised their own spears, but as Rapper got ready to hurl his like a javelin at the former Chief, Patterson threw his own, and with a wet thud it buried itself deep in the brown-skinned boy's chest. He staggered forward, gasped several times, then dropped to his knees and fell forward into the sand.

Patterson walked over and yanked the spear out. "God-damn it, Rapper," he said quietly. "What a waste." He turned and looked at the three newcomers, and dropped his spear. "I'm done. You guys take over. I'll do whatever you want."

"Go fuck yourself," Eric said instantly. "That's what you can do, you little stool pigeon, you fuckin-"

"Eric," Simon said. "That's enough. Patterson didn't do anything to your brother."

Ralph and Simon walked over to the little ones, but they continued to cower. The dark sand underneath Mikey said how terrified the smallest of the boys was. Peter, helpless and weak but just a little bigger and stronger than Mikey, had his arms around Mikey and was clearly trying to hide him. Mikey wouldn't even look.

"Please, Master," Peter said. "Please. We'll be good. We promise. We'll do what you want. Just don't hurt us. Please."

Eric walked over, looking down at them. The sight of Simon and Eric, two physically powerful individuals who stood high above them, made the little ones even more frightened. They all looked ready to run for it, but they couldn't, so they stayed where they were and tried to hide. They huddled together and just waited for whatever would happen. They clearly expected punishment.

Ralph was horrified. The little ones had always been small, but weeks of hard living as slave labor had made them skinnier still. They were all underfed and thirsty, but they didn't even ask for food or water. They just cowered in the sand, waiting to be beaten and ordered around.

Peter started crying. "Why'd you kill my Master, sir? Why? What'd you do to everybody? What're you gonna do to us?"

Ralph took a step towards them, but the little ones shuddered and backed away as a group. Mikey hid his face against Peter's chest.

"I'm not sure where to start," Simon admitted. He looked at the group of small cadets, so visibly terrified of him, of Eric, of Ralph.

"We're not gonna hurt you," Eric said.

"You guys are safe now," Ralph assured them. "Look, it's okay. Really." He choked up, not sure how to get the message across. "It's okay. You're gonna be all right."

Simon went out into the trees and came back with several bunches of bananas. He set them all down right next to the cluster of little ones.

"Each of you can have two."

"What?" Ralph asked. "Why two?"

"We gotta slow them down," Simon explained. "If they eat too much at once after starving like this it'll hurt them."

John and Luke stood up, eyes wide. They weren't any better off than the little ones. Like them, they looked like they didn't quite believe this was real.

"Patterson," Simon said, "I want you to take Peter, Tex, Greg, and Billy to the pond so they can get some water."

"I'm not goin' without Mikey," Peter said immediately, shaking his head. His face went white, and he hastily added, "Sir."

"You guys all know us," Eric said. "Me and Simon, you know us. We're Hunters, or we were. Jack's dead now. You don't have masters anymore. You're all free. We're gonna just be cadets again and we're gonna go home."

"You're all free, as of right now," Simon declared. "Ralph's in charge again. You don't need to be scared of him. He's going to help everybody."

Peter hesitantly stood up. Mikey clung to him, trembling, but Peter gently took his hand and led him over to the bananas. He began breaking individual ones off from the bunch, placing them next to each of the little ones. Luke and John did the same, and Mikey, while he still wouldn't look at any of the older boys, ate a banana that Peter offered to him.

"Sir, can I speak, sir?" Tex asked.

"Yes," Eric, Simon and Ralph all said together.

Tex looked at them all, confused. "Sir, what do you mean we don't have masters anymore? Jack said we were slaves because we're-" his voice broke and he dropped his eyes.

"Weak? Worthless? Inferior?" Eric asked.

"Yeah. Sir."

"You're not," Eric replied firmly. "And nobody's a slave around here anymore. That ended with Jack."

Ralph repeated the instructions Simon had given, but the little ones wouldn't be separated. They had banded together in a desperate bid to survive, and they didn't want to be broken up. They were safe in numbers, and at least the bigger boys left them alone some of the time if they worked hard. That had been the norm for so many weeks, it was all their simple minds knew.

Patterson cleared his throat. "You guys should take them all at once. I'll move Rapper up to the cave."

"We're gonna have to bury those bodies," Simon remarked. "I guess they'll have to dig 'em up when someone comes. We can't keep 'em from… going."

"Yeah," Ralph said.

Simon clapped his hands together and knelt in front of the little ones. "Hey, who wants to play a game?"

The little ones stared at him.

"It's called, Simon Says! You guys know that one. Come on, use those little brains!"

"We're gonna play a game, sir?" Peter asked hesitantly.

Simon smiled. "Yes, we are. And Simon Says- go to the pond!"

Peter hesitated, then took Mikey's hand. Mikey took one look up at Simon, then Eric, then Ralph. He shuddered and looked away, but he followed when Peter started motioning him forward. Sheraton, Tex, Greg, Billy, and Rusty began to follow him, one by one.

"This can't be happening," Luke said. "No way is this over."

"I thought it wasn't ever gonna end," John added.

"I didn't either," Ralph said. "But it did."

"Good," Peter said.

Simon continued to carry on with his little act, cheerfully encouraging the little ones and trying to break them out of this shell they'd gone into. He kept trying to high-five each of them, called them by name and said positive things about them. The little ones still looked reluctant to believe it, but when they got to the pond and nobody stopped them from taking a drink, they seemed to become more convinced. Suddenly Greg pushed Rusty in, and he grabbed Billy as he fell. There was a great splash as the three boys fell in the water, and Mikey jumped and ran straight to Peter.

"You guys can swim if you want," Simon said. "Actually, no offense, but you kids are kinda stinky. So Simon says, go swim."

Peter went up to Simon, Eric and Ralph and hugged each of them. He was malnourished and still looked frightened, but he hugged each of the older boys and said their names, seeming to be reminding himself of something, more than them. Mikey still wouldn't come near any of them, but he hesitantly took off the small leather loincloth he had wrapped around his waist and went for a swim in the shallowest part of the water.

Pablo turned up with Patterson after a while. He didn't talk about what happened, but he tearfully embraced Simon, Ralph and Eric and thanked them.

"You guys can take care of this," Eric said, getting up. "I'm going to go and see Sam."

"You don't have to leave," Simon told him.

"I don't wanna talk to anybody right now," Eric replied. "I'm glad everybody's okay, but I want you to leave me alone. We'll do a burial for everyone tomorrow. I'll send Piggy down here."

Piggy arrived about twenty minutes later, supporting Steve as the taller, stronger boy limped his way down to the pond. He had completely given up, and didn't make any effort to fight or harm anyone. He ate some of the food that was given to him, but that was it.

Even though he'd played a key part in the battle, Piggy, like Patterson, he didn't seem entirely comfortable, but Ralph made sure to get both of them involved. Patterson acted as a lifeguard, catching little ones who went too deep. Mikey began playing a game with him, intentionally slipping away from Peter and trying to flounder his way past Patterson. Mikey was a terrible swimmer, so Patterson didn't like the game much more than Peter did, but they both seemed relieved enough that they didn't tell him to stop it.

No one seemed to lament Jack's absence at all. The tension caused by the conflict of the past weeks was suddenly gone, and there was a great sense of relief that at least things were over.

Besides, it wasn't as if Jack had given anyone much reason to mourn him.

"So, Colonel," Simon said, sitting down beside him as Ralph watched the little ones playing in the water, Luke and John carrying some of them around on their shoulders.

"Yeah?" Ralph asked, somewhat amazed anyone still remembered that rank he'd gone by before they landed here.

"You fought in a battle finally."

"Yeah."

"How's it feel?"

Ralph looked at Simon, wondering if this was some kind of joke. But Simon looked back earnestly, and finally Ralph decided he must be serious.

"Relieved, I guess," Ralph said. "Amazed we're not dead or slaves."

"Makes sense."

"I feel sick," Ralph added. "I feel like… I could puke. But I can't."

"You gotta be alive to feel sick, Colonel," Simon replied.

"You asked, I told you," Ralph answered him. "But that's not all." He paused, then added quietly, "I feel ashamed."

There was a long silence. Simon whispered, "So do I."

"Why, Simon? Why should we feel ashamed?" Ralph was nearing tears now.

"We killed a lot of guys just now," Simon said. "We were friends with some of them. We used to go to class with them. We saw them every day for a year. Some of 'em for more than a year. And we just killed them."

"Yeah," Ralph said. He stood up. "I gotta go- throw up." Thinking about what had happened, about the fighting and all the blood, was too much. Ralph strode out of the clearing, staggered up to a tree, and vomited. He threw up everything he had, then dry-heaved again and again. Then Simon was there, hand on his shoulder. "Easy, Colonel. Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

"Nah," Ralph said. "It's okay."

A great cheer went up from the pond as Piggy cannonballed in, after repeated encouragement from Patterson, Luke and John. The little ones were genuinely enjoying themselves, it seemed like, and they freely ate additional portions of food that Simon had left for them near the pond.

"I guess we're lucky to be alive, huh?" Ralph asked.

"Yes, we are," Simon replied. "Very lucky." He paused. "I know what Jack did to you, Ralph."

Ralph turned instantly. "What?"

"He raped you."

Ralph hissed, "I never-"

"I saw but I didn't stop it," Simon said. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But we're gonna need to prove to people that Jack did that."

"Why?" Ralph demanded angrily. "What if I just never wanna talk about it? How about that?"

"You really want Jack to get away with that?"

Ralph wanted to argue, but Simon just kept looking at him with that calm, steady gaze.

"I guess we are gonna have to explain a lot," Ralph said. "Oh, man."

"It's fine, Ralph," Simon said. "Like you said, we won. We'll make sure people know the truth when we get rescued."

Ralph started to head back to the pond, and Simon went with him.

"Sergeant," Simon said to Pablo as the black-haired, tan-skinned boy came out of the water.

"Yes, sir?" Pablo replied.

"You don't need to call me that."

"Yes, si-Simon?"

"Ralph wants to talk to you."

"Does he?"

"Do I?"

"Yes," Simon said. "I think we needed to get a plan together for a big fire. We're gonna have to start a big one, but keep it from burning the whole island down. We'll also have to keep it going until someone comes and finds us, we we'll need to gather fuel. Just some of the things you were telling me, Colonel, as I remember."

"Uh, yeah, that's right," Ralph said. "Um, yes. So we're gonna need to figure all that out. Can you help, Pablo?"

Pablo looked genuinely amazed anybody was asking for his help. After weeks of enthusiastic verbal and physical abuse at the hands of Jack, Roger, or another one of the Hunters, this was quite a change of pace.

"Uh, sure, Ralph," Pablo answered. He managed a smile. "Sure. Jack kinda stopped caring about that once he was after you."

"Yeah, I bet."

Simon headed over to the pond. "I'm gonna go for a swim, keep the little guys under control, that sorta thing," he said. "Okay, Colonel?"

"Sure, Simon," Ralph said, smiling gratefully.

 **XX**

Eric sat in the cool and the quiet of the cave, looking at Sam, his brother. They had been exactly alike in every way for so many years that everyone had struggled to tell them apart. Even their mannerisms and interests were much the same, and they had found great amusement in messing with people, pretending to be the other.

They were assigned nametags that included their first name at Bunker Hill, but they just switched nametags. It was decided to put them in the same company, since separating them just upset both twins and increased their interest in fooling the school and cadet leadership.

Sam looked so peaceful. The spear wound in his back was hidden since he was lying face up, and Eric had arranged him so his neck didn't look broken. He wished he could do more than just make it look that way.

On and off, Eric had been talking, reminiscencing. Recalling moments he had shared with his brother. Sam was unable to respond, but he knew it was important to say these things.

"Hey, you remember when we messed with Ralph, when he became battalion commander? We drove him crazy."

"We got in trouble for putting ketchup on Roger's seat that time, but it was worth it."

"I was gonna find some more berries and make you a Hunter so we could be the same again. I want you to know that."

"I've never had to do anything without you. You were always there. Even when it drove me crazy I had this kid who looked just like me. I hated it sometimes, but I don't know how I could've lived without you." Eric hesitated. "I don't know how I'm gonna do that now."

"You remember when we figured out the word 'dork' and started calling everybody that?"

"You should've seen yourself in that fight, Sam. I'm so proud of you. You saved all of us."

"You remember the time Ralph led a bunch of guys in a big snowball fight, and we took down Jack and Roger and everybody? Somebody got a hold of one of the company flags and we planted it on the snow fort Roger and Jack made. That was fun."

"Everybody's safe now, Sam. All the little ones and Piggy and Ralph and everybody. Simon's helping look after everyone."

"I'm so sorry I ever called you a dork. I'm sorry for every time I ever said anything mean to you. I take it back. Every word."

And so on it went. Eric would be laughing one minute, crying the next, but mostly he just remembered. It was impossible to think that this had really happened. Sam couldn't be gone. He was taking a nap. He'd bounce right up and head on out to find some berries. Any second he'd open his eyes and call Eric a dork for being so sappy.

"Eric, the little ones want to see you."

Eric jumped, looking up at Simon. They had both aged so much in the past weeks. They looked, talked and acted like they were seventeen or eighteen now. Eric felt like he'd just fought in a war, and Simon looked no better. They both sported scrapes, bruises and scars.

When Eric didn't reply, Simon said, "You've been in here for hours. Piggy's still freaked out from the time he was in here. It's not good for you, man."

"He's my brother," Eric said.

"And you know what he'd say if he were still with us?" Simon asked. "He'd say, 'Get up and go do something, dork, and stop crying about me.'"

Eric laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. That sounded like something Sam would say. Eric knew beyond a doubt that Sam would not have wanted his brother to mourn him so much that he never found anything else fun or good in life. But life without his twin was incomprehensible, unthinkable. Eric had lost half of himself.

Simon had a point, though, and Eric stood up after touching Sam's hands, which he had carefully folded on Sam's chest. Then he looked at Simon and replied, "But Sam would've said it better, Simon."

"He was so brave in that fight."

"He was."

"You know he wouldn't want you in here like this."

"I should've made him fall back with Piggy."

"He wouldn't have let you. Even if you'd carried him up there before the fight started he would've just come running back down. I saw the look in his eyes, Eric. He wanted to be there with you. He said that plain and simple."

"Yeah," Eric said. "I know."

Simon held out a hand. "Come on. The little ones wanna see how many of them you can carry around at once."

Eric looked down at Sam.

"Pablo's coming up after he gets done talking about the big signal fire Ralph's planning to set up. We'll have someone here guarding the cave until the burial. Sam will be safe."

"Okay, fine," Eric said. "But I'm not leaving until Pablo comes here and takes over."

"I'll go get him now."

"Fine."

 **XX**

As the day wore on, Simon decided it might be better to bury the bodies today. He suggested it to Ralph, who talked with each of the other older boys. They all agreed, and the decision was made. Simon and Eric began moving the bodies thirty minutes later. Since most of them were the bulky, muscular Hunters, it wasn't practical to have anybody but Simon and Eric do it. Eric only grudgingly allowed Simon to help carry Sam.

Ralph was reluctant to interrupt the little ones, who were slowly but steadily relaxing and returning to being kids like they were supposed to be, and not the frightened, submissive slaves Jack and Roger had tried to turn them into.

But Peter, who had emerged as a kind of spokesman for the little ones, gathered them and explained they needed to say goodbye to Sam, who had fought bravely to save them. He didn't mention the others. After his little talk, the other small cadets went along willingly enough. Mikey talked occasionally, but he still shied away from the older boys.

Ralph had learned that Mikey hadn't been raped, as unimaginable as that was, and that he was unharmed physically apart from some abuse, like being forced to go to the bathroom in his underwear after being intentionally denied the chance to go beforehand. Mikey had simply become frightened of all older boys, having concluded in his mind that the Hunters represented everybody who was much taller than he was. He was going to come out of this okay, Ralph hoped. They were doing the best they could for him.

At the base of the dead tree, six foot long, six foot deep trenches had been dug with improvised tools. Simon and Eric's powerful muscles had done the work with incredible speed, and they had already lowered each body into the graves. The little ones were held back at a safe distance, so they didn't have to look at any of the bodies.

Simon nudged Ralph once everyone was present. "Go on. Talk."

"What?" Ralph said, jumping a little.

"You're in charge again. Say something."

Ralph cleared his throat. He was tired and dirty, and he was, like the rest of them, naked apart from the loincloth he wore around his waist. It was lucky Simon had made him one. That red underwear had been coming apart. Ralph didn't feel like a leader. He'd barely survived the fight on the mountainside, and Simon and Eric had eclipsed him for much of the past weeks. And Jack had overthrown him. Now two of the three cadet officers who had come on this trip were dead. It was Ralph and Pablo who had come here holding rank- only they were left.

Some unofficial promotions were gonna be needed. Ralph wanted this group looking halfway sane and organized when help arrived.

It didn't seem right that Ralph should say anything, but everybody was looking at him. So he spoke up.

"The storm has passed. In two ways, I guess. We lost nobody to the wind and rain, but lots to us fighting each other. I wish it could've happened another way. I would've given anything for it. I know none of us really feel like we should miss Roger, Jack, Andy, Will, Larry, or Rapper. But a lot of them were our friends before we wound up on this island. They weren't always like that. When Simon, Piggy, Eric, Sam and me fought Jack and his Hunters on the mountainside, we weren't just fighting for our lives. We were fighting for everybody who was being hurt by what Jack did after he took over the camp. I don't know why he did all of that. But it had to end. It's all over now, and we're all safe."

"Sam used to be friends with Andy and Larry. A lot of us were. They were good guys. But with everything that happened, we had no choice but to fight them. There was some part of the Bible where God said, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" and someone said, "Here I am, send me." Ralph paused. "I wish I could remember it better. But it makes me think of Sam. He didn't have to stay and fight. He knew the plan and he knew it was dangerous no matter what happened. But he said the only thing he wanted was to stay and be there with his brother."

"Everybody we lost since we came to this island will go home when we're rescued. We'll make sure these guys get a proper burial like they deserve. For now, this is the best we can do."

Ralph stopped. He wasn't sure what else to say.

"Sam saved my life," Ralph added suddenly, remembering. "During the fight, Jack almost killed me. Sam stopped him, then Eric stopped him again. I'm only alive because of what they did."

Eric couldn't speak. He just stood there, tears running down his face.

Simon cleared his throat. "I'm glad I knew a lot of these guys. But Sam was probably the bravest guy I'm gonna meet in my life. He was outmatched fighting those Hunters but he did it anyway. Like Ralph said, he didn't want to be anywhere safer if Eric wasn't there too, and Eric wouldn't have ever left any of us. I'm glad we at least can say Sam's sacrifice bought something worthwhile."

"He was nice," Greg spoke up. "Sam was always nice to me. Andy was too, before. And Larry."

"I miss the old Larry," Peter said. "I miss Sam. I wish we could all go home and not just some of us."

"Yeah," Simon said. "So do I." He hesitated, then added, "I hope everyone we lost here finds peace."

Ralph nodded, and there was a general murmur of agreement among the boys. Steve, who had agreed to help back Ralph's intended report of events, stood away from the others, with only Patterson near to him. As the only surviving loyal Hunters, they did not feel like they belonged and tended to keep to themselves. Piggy fit in much better now, but others had taken his place as the misfit.

There was no bugle, so there was no way of playing "Taps". Ralph nonetheless heard those solemn notes in his mind as Simon and Eric began pushing dirt into each grave. First Sam, then Larry, then Andy, Rapper, Will, Roger, and Jack. They added seven to the count of casualties since landing on the island. Captain Benson, Tony, and now seven more. Nine lives lost in all.

A different hill would be used for the big fire. Eric was adamant about that. He wanted this one to be quiet and peaceful, with only a small campfire like they'd had before as someone kept watch, just in case a ship or plane happened to go by. Two fires, one big and one small, increased the chance of someone coming to investigate.

After the graves were all filled with soil, Ralph dismissed everyone, and they headed back to work on the camp or spend some more time at the pond. Some time was left before nightfall, by which time everyone was expected back at the camp. They'd get the fire going again tomorrow, as well as work on gathering fuel for the big signal fire. But tonight they were all going to get some much-needed rest.

 **XX**

Simon was exhausted, physically and mentally. After helping to rebuild the camp until it got dark, Simon took a place in one of the several shelters they'd constructed and lay down on the sand. It was cool, if gritty, and he didn't need a pillow. Simon didn't need anything right now. He'd had something to eat, and water to drink. Everyone was safe. They had a plan to get rescued. Simon didn't want for anything… except a few pretty girls to have fun with.

But for now, even that could wait.

 **XX**

Simon woke up in the middle of a deserted beach, and right away he knew something was wrong. No one else was around. The shelter he'd been in was gone. Eric, who'd been in the same shelter, was gone. He couldn't see or hear anyone. What was going on?

"Hello, Simon."

The heavily-muscled twelve-year-old turned around. "Captain Benson?"

The faculty officer smiled and nodded. "The same. You've been lifting a few weights, Simon. The girls will be impressed."

"I really couldn't help it, sir. It just happened."

"I know. Those berries are something."

"You know about them?"

"Sure. I also know you risked everything to save everybody who's left. You didn't want to fight. I know you didn't. But you did and you won. You saved everyone."

"I didn't. Really. It was-"

"Eric's not the thinker you are. He's smart, but not quite like you. And Ralph… he wasn't in a good position to strategize a lot lately. When Roger saw where you guys were hiding, you did the most to come up with a plan. The sacrifice Sam made was because he knew you guys stood a real chance of winning. He believed in your plan, Simon."

"But it wasn't mine. I didn't even do anything when we fought."

"Without you and Eric, imagine what that fight would have been like."

Simon didn't much like to contemplate that. "But I didn't do anything. I just tried to help."

Benson looked at Simon for what seemed like forever. Then he said, "Simon, I wish all the world had your definition of 'just trying to help'. You've done well, Simon. And just so you know, that plan you talked Ralph into is gonna work. You guys are going home soon."

"Sir, when they find out about everybody who died- what happened-"

"It'll be hard. A lot of angry parents wanting answers. But even more parents will get their kids back. And at least they'll get the truth. Jack would have lied to everyone."

"Yeah. Well… what do we do? What happens next? I don't know how I'm gonna go back after this."

"It won't be easy, Simon. But you and the others made it through this. You can make it through anything that comes next. I guarantee it."

Simon hesitated. "Are we going to talk again, sir?"

"Someday. But not all that soon. I think you boys can take it from here. Don't you?"

"We'll try our best, sir."

"That's all anybody can ask." Captain Benson gestured out to the water. "Look out there, close to the shore. You see anything? A conch, maybe?"

"The conch? You fixed it?" Simon couldn't believe it.

Benson laughed. "No. But that wasn't the only conch in the world. Make sure and bring that to Ralph tomorrow. I think he might appreciate that."

"It'll be here?"

"Sure."

Simon stood there, not sure how to proceed. "What's gonna happen to all of us, sir?"

"Like I said, after this, nothing you can't handle." Benson saluted Simon. "You've done all I could have asked. All that Bunker Hill stands for. You're a hero, Simon. Someday you'll be known for that."

"I don't want to be a hero, sir. I mean- that's not what I am."

"You'd be surprised how often heroes will say that, Simon. Get plenty of rest tonight. You've earned it."

* * *

 **A/N: 12-13-2017. So there's another chapter done. Maybe one more, like I said, we'll see. And then of course, got to do the version where Jack wins. Thank you to each and every person who has reviewed this story or will at any point in the future.**

 **The 1964 movie "Zulu" is referenced here, as Ralph and Simon talk about the battle once it's over. The line "The storm has passed" is a reference to the 2007 video game "Halo 3". It is the opening line to Fleet Admiral Sir Terrence Hood's brief speech at the initial memorial created for those fallen in the defense of Earth and her colonies in the Human-Covenant War.**


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